
Class 

Book 

Copyright N?._ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSflV 




SIR JOSHUA HEYNOLCS 



SAMUEL JOHNSON 
1709-1784 



A SELECTION FROM 

THE LIFE OF 

SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. 



BY 

JAMES BOSWELL, ESQ. 



EDITED WITH NOTES AND AN INTRODUCTION 
BY 

MAX J. HERZBERG 

Head of the English Department, Central High School, Newark, N. J, 



D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS 

BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO 






Copyright, 1916, 

By D. C. Heath & Co. 
1C6 



P) 



t/0 



APR -I 1916 
©CLA427493 

■■/• 



PREFACE 

There can certainly be no more profitable or pleasant task 
for the English teacher than to foster in pupils a liking for 
Boswell. In Bos well they will find a striking portrait of a 
wise and good man, who is made to appear at all times 
thoroughly human; at the same time BoswelPs biography is 
a remarkably vivid mirror of that interesting epoch, the 
eighteenth century. Students should carry away from 
Boswell many striking sentiments on life and literature, 
much plain wisdom regarding everyday affairs, and some 
acquaintance with the art of true conversation. BoswelPs 
narrative is, moreover, unique in its skill and accuracy as a 
biography, and is a model in that significant kind of writing. 
It is a common observation that few works have won for 
themselves so much affection as BoswelPs great record, and 
even those, who (like Macaulay) despise the author, read his 
production, and all writings that bear upon it, with unabated 
eagerness. 

It should be the teacher's object in reading the following 
selections to encourage the student to read Boswell unabridged 
and to go on to the other literature that has accumulated 
around Johnson. To assist in this object a full list of sug- 
gestions for supplementary reading has been provided. 

The attempt has been made in the actual selections to 
have Boswell tell (despite the large omissions) a story as 
nearly consecutive as possible, in which gaps should be not 
too obtrusive. The editor has been careful not to alter the 
words of Boswell. His spelling, however, has been modern- 
ized, and his punctuation, in a number of cases, altered. 

The actual process of selection presented, of course, a be- 
wilderment of riches. This is the apology that may be 
offered to readers who miss this or that favorite passage. 
Such readers may be assured that only exigencies of space 
and the limitations of the college entrance requirements 
occasioned the reluctant omission of many striking anecdotes 
and sayings. 

iii 



IV PREFACE 

With some hesitation the division into chapters was 
adopted. These are lacking in the original editions of 
Boswell, and have been adopted in only one complete edition 
since Malone's. It seemed advisable, however, for ped- 
agogical reasons, to adopt these sections and to provide some 
topical indication of the contents. 

The choice of particular passages was often dictated by 
the fact that many teachers will unquestionably use Bos- 
weirs biography in conjunction with Macaulay's Life of 
Johnson. The student will compare to his advantage the 
methods of two masters of the art of biography; and to en- 
able him to do this more readily, passages in Boswell have 
been selected which contain facts on which Macaulay based 
his remarks. There is, of course, another point for the 
student to make at the same time: that Macaulay laid on 
the colors too thick, that he often exaggerated or misinter- 
preted. A set of exercises has been provided to guide the 
student in the task of comparison. 

M. J. H. 

February, 1916. 



CONTENTS 

Page 
Introduction 

James Boswell . . vii 

Critical Opinions on Boswell and his Life of Jo hnson . xii 

The Chief Members of the Club xix 

"Retaliation": a Poem by Oliver Goldsmith . . . xxi 

Suggested Reading . xxiv 

Questions and Exercises xxviii 

Dedication 3 

Life of Samuel Johnson, LL.D 7 

Extracts from Johnson's Works 235 

Sayings and Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson . . . 24fr 

Notes 255 

Index 275 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

dr. samuel johnson Frontispiece 

Sir Joshua Reynolds p 

maps of london in 1780 xxxii-xxxiii " 

INSCRIPTION ON THE PEW IN ST. CLEMENT DANES . . 6^ 

james boswell facing 1 

Sir Joshua Reynolds 
PEMBROKE COLLEGE, OXFORD ..... " 10 

DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON IN MEDITATION ... 66 

Sir Joshua Reynolds 

HESTER LYNCH THRALE 92 

Sir Joshua Reynolds 

DR. JOHNSON IN HIS TRAVELLING DRESS . . " 130 

DIAGRAM OF THE POETS' CORNER, WESTMINSTER ABBEY . 234 



VI 



INTRODUCTION 

James Boswell 

The eccentric Scotch lawyer James Boswell has, since the 
appearance of his biography of Dr. Samuel Johnson, become 
one of the most baffling problems of English literature. His 
Life of Johnson at once took its place as perhaps the greatest 
of all biographies; but, the question was asked, how did a 
man apparently of such petty talents as Boswell possessed 
ever come to write this greatest of biographies? Some 
critics, like Macaulay, explained the difficulty by saying that 
BoswelPs work was so great because he himself was so petty. 
It soon became evident, however, that this explanation was 
as ridiculous as it would be to say that a horse pulled a load 
up a hill because he was so weak. Carlyle took the sensible 
view that there were in Boswell certain noble instincts that 
amply explained his production of so notable a work as the 
biography of Johnson. But even Carlyle did not see the 
whole truth. 

James Boswell was born in Edinburgh on October 29, 1740. 
Alexander Boswell his father, a strong Whig and active 
member of the Scotch church, was by profession a lawyer, 
and in 1754 was raised to the bench with the title of Lord 
Au^hinleck. 1 To Lord Auchinleck James Boswell was as 
distracting a problem as the traditional ugly duckling among 
the hen's brood. From a very early period the son proved 
himself something of a ne'er-do-well. He was vain, inquisi- 
tive, boastful, given overmuch to the drinking of wine, and 
fond of rather boisterous company. Neither his opinions 
nor his principles were firmly fixed; and though he often 
made good resolutions, he was almost as often a backslider. 
In politics and in religion alike he vexed his father's heart, 
and there were frequently bitter quarrels between sire and 
son and sometimes threats of disinheritance, 

1 Pronounced as a dissyllable, "Affleck.'* 
vii 



Vlll INTRODUCTION 

James Boswell, however, had certain qualities which might 
perhaps have won him more approbation, had they been set 
on some other background than that of his apparently 
frivolous and foolish character. He had an ardent respect 
and admiration for learning, coupled perhaps with some- 
what too high a view of his own attainments. He had, 
moreover, a particular veneration for great men, and the 
great men whom he chose for what Carlyle has called " hero- 
worship' 7 were such as did considerable honor to his own 
character. He showed indeed much discrimination in this 
respect, sometimes choosing for his personal regard great 
men of a type whom mere "men of the world" rather de- 
spised. As a matter of fact, the men whom Boswell most 
intensely admired, did not excite equal regard among the 
other members of Boswell's circle. They, unlike Boswell, 
often failed to see the greatness beneath the uncouth ex- 
terior. 

Boswell, after a residence at the University of Edinburgh, 
resolved, with the reluctant consent of his father, to take 
what was called "the Grand Tour" on the Continent, be- 
ginning with a stay at the schools of Utrecht. It was before 
he set out, in 1763, that he made the acquaintance of Dr. 
Johnson, as described in the text. Before this time he had 
already tried his hand at various pamphlets and much foolish 
verse. On the Continent Boswell, with his usual persist- 
ence, managed to see a great deal that was worth while. 
Incidentally, he varied the usual course of the Grand Tour 
by visiting Corsica, where he made the acquaintance of a 
stalwart, noble soul, General Paoli, the would-be liberator 
of Corsica. Later, when Paoli was obliged to take refuge in 
England, his home in London became Boswell's residence 
when he was in that city, and Paoli exercised on Boswell the 
best of influences. 

On his return, Boswell became a practising lawyer in 
Edinburgh, although he constantly longed to establish him- 
self in London. He continued his fruitful friendship with 
Dr. Johnson, jotting down notes of his conversations with 
him, making the acquaintance of Johnson's circle, and ulti- 



JAMES BOSWELL IX 

mately being admitted to the famous Literary Club which 
Dr. Johnson and Sir Joshua Reynolds had founded. From 
a very early period he had formed the project of writing 
Johnson's biography, and many of his talks with the famous 
literary dictator, who was quite well aware of his admirer's 
design, were directed toward obtaining information regard- 
ing Johnson's early life. Johnson, it must be remembered, 
was more than fifty years old when Boswell first made his 
acquaintance. The relations between the two men were 
cordial, at moments affectionate. Johnson realized the deep 
veneration entertained for him by Boswell, and he could not 
have failed to perceive that the latter possessed certain noble 
qualities. Moreover, his own melancholy moods were dis- 
pelled by Boswell's high spirits. At times Boswell, under 
the influence of vanity or, worse still, of wine, was guilty of 
offences against good taste, but Johnson, like Paoli, exer- 
cised on the young Scotchman a wholesome and paternal 
influence. 

While Johnson was still living, Boswell composed two works 
which served to prepare the way for the composition of his 
Life of Johnson. The first was an account of Boswell's ex- 
periences in Corsica, and here he already exhibited those 
qualities that were , to make his masterpiece notable — the 
power to render a situation graphically, to tell an anecdote 
in an effective fashion, and to characterize the persons of 
his story vividly. In 1769 Boswell had married his cousin 
and set up a home, still not without difficulties with his 
father, and in 1773 he and Johnson carried out a long-cherished 
idea of touring Scotland and the Hebrides. They were a re- 
markable pair, the clumsy, wise English lexicographer and 
the unimpressive, clever Scotch lawyer. They had some 
remarkable adventures, met many famous Scotchmen, and 
each in his way recorded interesting details of his tour. 
Johnson's account of the trip was published shortly; Bos- 
well's, however, not until after Johnson's death. 

The friendly intercourse between the two men continued, 
with some interruptions, until Johnson's death in 1784. 
Then Boswell set about preparing his collected material for 



X INTRODUCTION 

the press, first the Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, then on 
Monday, May 16, 1791, by a lucky chance the twenty-eighth 
anniversary of his first meeting with Johnson, his magnum 
opus, The Life of Samuel Johnson, LL.D. Thereafter Bos- 
welPs life was but a sorry one. He cherished unwise political 
ambitions, he attempted to secure practice at the London 
bar, some of his bad personal habits again got the better of 
him. His only consolation was the preparation of a second 
edition of the Life, for it had been a great and immediate 
success, 1200 copies being disposed of in four months — a 
considerable number in those days. On May 19, 1795, he 
died, after an illness of five weeks, in his fifty-fifth year. 

In personal appearance Boswell was rather above the 
middle height, says Charles Rogers, and inclined to corpu- 
lency. He walked with a stately gait, and in his costume 
observed the latest fashion. He had a large head, and wore 
a powdered wig; his prominent but well-set features beamed 
with perpetual good humor. "It was impossible," re- 
marked a contemporary, "to look in his face without being 
moved by the comicality which always reigned upon it." 
He talked much and with rapidity, but his observant mind was 
not observant to those who met him only casually in society. 

The view is sometimes entertained that Boswell wrote his 
great work with unconscious art, by accident, as it were. 
No view could be further from the mark. He himself in his 
introduction to the Life describes his methods in a way that 
shows he employed conscious art. He says: "Instead of 
melting down my materials into one mass and constantly 
speaking in my own person, by which I might have ap- 
peared to have more merit in the execution of the work, I 
have resolved to adopt and enlarge upon the excellent plan 
of Mr. Mason, in his Memoirs of Gray. Wherever narrative 
is necessary to explain, connect, and supply, I furnish it to 
the best of my abilities; but in the chronological series of 
Johnson's life, which I trace as distinctly as I can, year by 
year, I produce, wherever it is in my power, his own minutes, 
letters, or conversation, being convinced that this mode is 
more lively, and will make my readers better acquainted 



JAMES BOSWELL XI 

with him, than even most of those were who actually knew 
him, but could know him only partially; whereas there is 
here an accumulation of intelligence from various points, by 
which the character is more fully understood and illustrated/ ' 
Again, in a letter to his lifelong friend, William Johnson 
Temple, Boswell wrote: "I am absolutely certain that my 
mode of biography, which gives not only a history of John- 
son's visible progress through the world and of his publica- 
tions, but a view of his mind in his letters and conversations, 
is the most perfect that can be conceived, and will be more of 
a Life than any work that has ever appeared ," an opinion 
in which time has certainly justified him. In another letter 
he claimed of his book that it might be " without exception 
the most entertaining book ever read." Finally, he speaks 
of "the Flemish portrait" he draws of Johnson, from which 
"the most minute particulars" must not be absent. 

Two of Johnson's closest friends have delivered illuminat- 
ing opinions upon Bosw T eirs Life. Burke, the greatest of 
English orators, said: "He [Johnson] is greater in Boswell's 
books than in his own." In other words, Boswell gives 
posterity a finer and truer idea of the essential greatness of 
the renowned sage than a reading of Rasselas or The Lives of 
the Poets would give. Sir Joshua Reynolds, the great painter, 
remarked that every word of Boswell's Life of Johnson might 
be depended upon as if delivered upon oath, and he permitted 
the book to be dedicated to him. This remark emphasizes 
one of Boswell's most admirable qualities — his indefatigable 
zeal in verifying every last detail of Johnson's life. No 
trouble was too great, no energy wasted, that enabled him 
to clinch a fact as true. Other qualities of Boswell are 
brought out in the remarks of critics upon him quoted else- 
where in this Introduction; the student should consult 
these. The reader whose curiosity has been aroused as to 
the strange character of James Boswell might remember the 
latter's observation regarding himself, that "from a certain 
peculiarly open, frank, and ostentatious disposition which he 
avows, his history, like that of the old Seigneur Michael de 
Montaigne, is to be traced in his writings." 



XU INTRODUCTION 

Critical Opinions on Boswell and His " Life of Johnson " 

" Here Boswell lies! drop o'er his tomb a tear. 
Let no malignant tongue pursue him here; 
Bury his failings in the silent grave, 
And from unfriendly hands his memory save. 
Record the praise he purchased, let his name 
• Mount on the wings of literary fame, 
And to his honor say, ' Here Boswell lies, 
Whose pleasing pen adorned the good and wise. 
Whose memory down the stream of time shall flow 
Far as famed Johnson's or Paoli's go!'" 

— Proposed Epitaph by Robert Boswell. 

'"Who is this Scotch cur at Johnson's heels?' asked someone, 
amazed at the sudden intimacy. 'He is not a cur,' answered Gold- 
smith; 'you are too severe. He is only a burr. Tom Davies flung 
him at Johnson in sport and he has the faculty of sticking.'" 

— Sir James Prior. 

"Few figures were better known in London artistic and literary 
society than his — paunchy and puffy, with red face, long cocked 
nose, protuberant mouth and chin, with much solemnity of manner 
and voice, with slow gait and slovenly dress — the clothes being 
loose, the wig untidy, the gestures restless so as to resemble his great 
master, of whom he incessantly spoke, and whose big manner and 
oddities he mimicked with infinite drollery, making listeners con- 
vulse with laughter at the exquisite, but irreverent copy of his 
'revered friend.'" — Henry Gray Graham. 

"Considering the eminent persons to whom it relates, the quantity 
of miscellaneous information and entertaining gossip which it brings 
together, [it] may be termed, without exception, the best parlor- 
window book that was ever written." — Sir Walter Scott. 

"It was a strange and fortunate concurrence, that one so prone to 
talk and who talked so well, should be brought into close contact 
and confidence with one so zealous and so able to record. Dr. 
Johnson was a man of extraordinary powers, but Mr. Boswell had 
qualities, in their own way, almost as rare. He united lively man- 
ners with indefatigable diligence, and the volatile curiosity of a man 
about town with the drudging patience of a chronicler with a very 
good opinion of himself; he was quick in discerning, and frank in 
applauding, the excellencies of others. Though proud of his own 
name and lineage, and ambitious of the countenance of the great, he 
was yet so cordial an admirer of merit, wherever found, that much 
public ridicule, and something like contempt, were excited by the 
modest assurance with which he pressed his acquaintance on all the 
notorieties of his time. His contemporaries indeed, not without 



CRITICAL OPINIONS Xlll 

some color of reason, occasionally complained of him as vain, in- 
quisitive, troublesome, and giddy; but his vanity was inoffensive 
— his curiosity was commonly directed towards laudable objects — 
when he meddled he did so, generally, from good-natured motives — 
his giddiness was only an exuberant gayety, which never failed in 
the respect and reverence due to literature, morals, and religion." 

— John Wilson Croker. 

"The Life of Johnson is assuredly a great, a very great work. 
Homer is not more decidedly the first of heroic poets, Shakspere is 
not more decidedly the first of dramatists, Demosthenes is not more 
decidedly the first of orators, than Boswell is the first of biographers. 
He has no second. He has distanced all his competitors so de- 
cidedly that it is not worth while to place them. Eclipse is first, and 
the rest nowhere. 

"We are not sure that there is in the whole history of the human 
intellect so strange a phenomenon as this book. Many of the great- 
est men that ever lived have written biography. Boswell was one 
of the smallest men that ever lived, and he has beaten them all. He 
was, if we are to give any credit to his own account or to the united 
testimony of all who knew him, a man of the meanest and feeblest 
intellect. . . . Servile and impertinent, shallow and pedantic, a bigot 
and a sot, bloated with family pride, and eternally blustering about 
the dignity of a born gentleman, yet stooping to be a tale-bearer, an 
eavesdropper, a common butt in the taverns of London, so curious 
to know everybody who Was talked about, that, Tory and high 
Churchman as he was, he manoeuvred, we have been told, for an 
introduction to Tom Paine, so vain of the most childish distinction, 
that when he had been to court, he drove to the office where his 
book was printing without changing his clothes, and summoned all 
the printer's devils to admire his new ruffles and sword; such was 
this man, and such he was content and proud to be. Everything 
which another man would have hidden, everything the publication 
of which would have made another man hang himself, was matter 
of gay and clamorous exultation to his weak and diseased mind. . . . 

"That such a man should have written one of the best books in 
the world is strange enough. But this is not all. Many persons 
who have conducted themselves foolishly in active life, and whose 
conversation has indicated no superior powers of mind, have left 
us valuable works. Goldsmith was very justly described by one of 
his contemporaries as an inspired idiot, and by another as a being 

'Who wrote like an angel, and talked like poor Poll.* 

La Fontaine was in society a mere simpleton. His blunders would 
not come in amiss among the stories of Hierocles. But these men 
attained literary eminence in spite of their weaknesses. Boswell 
attained it by reason of his weaknesses. If he had not been a great 



XIV INTRODUCTION 

fool, he would never have been a great writer. Without all the 
qualities which made him the jest and the torment of those among 
whom he lived, without the officiousness, the inquisitiveness, the 
effrontery, the toad-eating, the insensibility to all reproof, he never 
could have produced so excellent a book. He was a slave, proud of 
his servitude, a Paul Pry, convinced that his own curiosity and 
garrulity were virtues, an unsafe companion who never scrupled to 
repay the most liberal hospitality by the basest violation of confidence, 
a man without delicacy, without shame, without sense enough to 
know when he was hurting the feelings of others or when he was ex- 
posing himself to derision; and because he was all this, he has, in an 
important department of literature, immeasurably surpassed such 
writers as Tacitus, Clarendon, Alfieri, and his own idle Johnson. 

"Of the talents which ordinarily raise men to eminence as writers, 
Boswell had absolutely none. There is not in all his books a single 
remark of his own on literature, politics, religion, or society, which 
is not either commonplace or absurd. His dissertations on heredi- 
tary gentility, on the slave-trade, and on the entailing of landed 
estates, may serve as examples. To say that these passages are 
sophistical would be to pay them an extravagant compliment. 
They have no pretence to argument, or even to meaning. He has 
reported innumerable observations made by himself in the course 
of conversation. Of those observations we do not remember one 
which is above the intellectual capacity of a boy of fifteen. He has 
printed many of his own letters, and in these letters he is always 
ranting or twaddling. Logic, eloquence, wit, taste, all those things 
which are generally considered as making a book valuable, were 
utterly wanting in him. He had, indeed, a quick observation and 
a retentive memory. These qualities, if he had been a man of sense 
and virtue, would scarcely of themselves have sufficed to make him 
conspicuous; but, because he was a dunce, a parasite, and a cox- 
comb, they have made him immortal." 

— Thomas Bdbington Macaulay. 

"Boswell has already been much commented upon; but rather 
in the way of censure and vituperation, than of true recognition. 
He was a man that brought himself much before the world; con- 
fessed that he eagerly coveted fame, or if that were not possible, 
notoriety; of which latter as he gained far more than seemed his 
due, the public were incited, not only by their natural love of scandal, 
but by a special ground of envy, to say whatever ill of him could be 
said. Out of the fifteen millions that then lived, and had bed and 
board, in the British Islands, this man has provided us a greater 
pleasure than any other individual, at whose cost we now enjoy our- 
selves; perhaps has done us a greater service than can be specially 
attributed to more than two or three; yet, ungrateful that we are, 
no written or spoken eulogy of James Boswell anywhere exists; his 
recompense in solid pudding (so far as copyright went) was not ex- 



CRITICAL OPINIONS XV 

cessive; and as for the empty praise, it has altogether been denied 
him. Men are un wiser than children; they do not know the hand 
that feeds them. 

"Boswell was a person whose mean or bad qualities lay open to 
the general eye; visible, palpable to the dullest. His good qualities 
belonged not to the Time he lived in; were far from common then; 
indeed, in such a degree, were almost unexampled; not recognizable 
therefore by every one; nay, apt even [so strange had they grown] 
to be confounded with the very vices they lay contiguous to and had 
sprung out of. That he was a winebibber and gross liver; glut- 
tonously fond of whatever would yield him a little solacement, were 
it only of a stomachic character, is undeniable enough. That he was 
vain, heedless, a babbler; had much of the sycophant, alternating 
with the braggadocio, curiously spiced too with an all-pervading 
dash of the coxcomb; that he gloried much when the Tailor, by a 
court-suit, had made a new man of him; that he appeared at the 
Shakespeare Jubilee with a riband, imprinted 'Corsica Boswell,' 
round his hat;* and in short, if you will, lived no day of his life 
without doing and saying more than one pretentious ineptitude: all 
this unhappily is evident as the sun at noon. . . . 

"Unfortunately, on the other hand, what great and genuine good 
lay in him was nowise so self-evident. That Boswell was a hunter 
after spiritual Notabilities, that he loved such, and longed, and even 
crept and crawled to be near them; that he first (in old Touchwood 
Auchinleck's phraseology) 'took on with Paoli;' and then being off 
with 'the Corsican landlouper/ took on with a schoolmaster, 'ane 
that keeped a schule, and ca'd it an academy:' that he did all this, 
and could not help doing it, we account a very singular merit. The 
man, once for all, had an ' open sense,' an open loving heart, which 
so few have: where Excellence existed, he was compelled to ac- 
knowledge it; was drawn towards it, and (let the old sulphur-brand 
of a Laird say what he liked) could not but walk with it, — if not as 
superior, if not as equal, then as inferior and lackey, better so than 
not at all." — Thomas Carlyle. 

"As for the Book itself, questionless the universal favor enter- 
tained for it is well merited. In worth as a Book we have rated it 
beyond any other product of the eighteenth century: all Johnson's, 
own writings, laborious and in their kind genuine above most, 
stand on a quite inferior level to it; already, indeed, they are be- 
coming obsolete for this generation; and for some future generation 
may be valuable chiefly as Prolegomena and expository Scholia to 
this Johnsoniad of Boswell. Which of us but remembers, as one of 
the sunny spots in his existence, the day when he opened these airy 
volumes, fascinating him by a true natural-magic! It was as if the 

* Investigation has now proved that this story of Boswell and his riband is 
quite without foundation. — Ed. 



XVI INTRODUCTION 

curtains of the past were drawn aside, and we looked mysteriously 
into a kindred country, where dwelt our Fathers; inexpressibly dear 
to us, but which had seemed forever hidden from our eyes. For the 
dead Night had engulfed it; all was gone, vanished as if it had not 
been. Nevertheless, wondrously given back to us, there once more 
it lay; all bright, lucid, blooming; a little island of Creation amid 
the circumambient Void. There it still lies; like a thing stationary, 
imperishable, over which changeful Time were now accumulating 
itself in vain, and could not, any longer, harm it or hide it." 

— Thomas Carlyle. 

"Boswell's unconscious art is wonderful, and so is the result 
attained. The book has arrested, as never book did before, time 
and decay. Bozzy is really a wizard: he makes the sun stand still.". 
^__ — Alexander Smith. 

"Boswell's Johnson is for me a sort of test-book: according to a 
man's judgment of it, I am apt to form my judgment of him. It may 
not always be a very good test, but it is never a very bad one." 
L — George Henry Lewes. 

"Boswell's charm for us is ever his inextinguishable and instinctive 
humanity — the transparent way in which, through the infinite 
variety of moods that chase one another over the surface of his mind, 
he thinks aloud (as primitive men and criminals, it is said, are wont 
to do) and in the thinking aloud reveals the iridescent Everyman that 
lurks in each one of us." — Thomas Seccombe. 

"His singular gifts as an observer could only escape notice from a 
careless or inexperienced reader. Boswell has a little of the true 
Shakespearian secret. He lets his characters show themselves with- 
out obtruding unnecessary comment. He never misses the point 
of a story, though he does not ostentatiously call our attention to 
it. He gives just what is wanted to indicate character, or to explain 
the full meaning of a repartee. It is not till we compare his re- 
ports with those of less skillful hearers, that we can appreciate the 
skill with which the essence of a conversation is extracted, and the 
whole scene indicated by a few telling touches. We are tempted to 
fancy that we have heard the very thing, really infer that Boswell 
was simply the mechanical transmitter of the good things uttered. 
Anyone who will try to put down the pith of a brilliant conversation 
within the same space, may soon satisfy himself of the absurdity of 
such an hypothesis, and will learn to appreciate Boswell 's powers not 
only of memory but artistic representation. Such a feat implies 
not only admirable quickness of appreciation, but a rare literary 
faculty. Boswell's accuracy is remarkable; but it is the least part 
of his merit." — Leslie Stephen. 

"The universal verdict of mankind has placed this work among 
the five or six most interesting and stimulating of the world's books." 

— Edmund Gosse. 



CRITICAL OPINIONS XV11 

"What would the world have thought of Samuel Johnson at the 
end of a hundred years if a silly little Scottish laird had not made a 
hero of him, to be worshipped as no literary man was ever worshipped 
before or since, and if he had not written a biography of him which 
is the best in any language, and the model for all others?" 

— Lawrence Hutton. 

"Those who think that James Boswell was a vain and shallow 
coxcomb of mediocre abilities, without intellectual gifts of any 
eminence, are confronted with the fact that this supposed fool was 
the unaided author of two of the most graphic and most readable 
works which the eighteenth century has left us. It is right that 
Boswell's claim to a high independent place in literature should be 
vindicated, and the fact is that, after Burke and Goldsmith, he is 
by far the most considerable of the literary companions of Johnson. 
That he has risen into fame on the shoulders of that great man is 
true, but the fact has been insisted upon until his own genuine and 
peculiar merits have been most unduly overlooked." 

— Edmund Gosse. 

"The extraordinary vitality of Johnson is one of the most inter- 
esting phenomena in literary history. That the greater part of it 
did not exhale with the fading memory of his friends is due to the 
genius of his principal disciple. It has been customary to deny 
capacity of every kind to James Boswell, who had, indeed, several 
of the characteristics of a fool; but the qualities which render the 
Life of Johnson one of the great books of the world are not accidental, 
and it would be an equal injustice to consider them inherent in the 
subject. The life and letters of Gray, which Mason had published 
in 1775, gave Boswell a model for his form, but it was a model which 
he excelled in every feature. By Mason and Boswell a species of 
literature was introduced into England which was destined to enjoy 
a popularity that never stood higher than it does at this moment. 
Biographies had up to this time been perfunctory affairs, either 
trivial or unessential collections of anecdotes, or else pompous 
eulogies from which the breath of life was absent. But Mason and 
Boswell made their heroes paint their own portraits, by the skillful 
interpolation of letters, by the use of anecdotes, by the manipulation 
of the recollections of others; they adapted to biography the newly 
discovered formulas of the anti-romantic novelists, and aimed at 
the production of a figure that should be interesting, lifelike, and 
true." — Edmund Gosse. 

"Boswell was not very witty, nor very wise, but he had an ex- 
quisite appreciation of wit and wisdom. He avows again and again 
that he only recorded portions of what he heard, and the internal 
evidence would prove of itself without his assertion, that he win- 
nowed his matter. No wholesale or servile report could possess the 
vigor and raciness of his selections. In one or two instances others 



XV1U INTRODUCTION 

have retailed the same conversations as himself, at more than treble 
the length, and with not the tithe of the spirit. His tact is the more 
remarkable, that he carefully treasured up trifles, when, to use his 
own words, 'they were amusing and characteristic,' and it is seldom 
in these cases that his judgment is at fault. Fitzherbert said that 
it was not every man who could carry a bon mot, and probably 
no man carries witticisms correctly, who has not himself a full 
comprehension of their point. Boswell carried repartees, maxims, 
and arguments with accuracy, because he felt their force, and through- 
out his work details them in a manner which shows the keenness of 
his relish. To follow the hum of conversation with so much intelli- 
gence, and, amid the confused medley, to distinguish what was 
worthy to be observed, required unusual quickness of observation 
and cannot be reconciled to the notion that he was simply endowed 
with strength of memory." — Whitwell Elwin. 

" In his accurate reproduction of life, Boswell surpasses all the 
realists and attains to something of the inexhaustibility of nature 
itself. Delightful as is his book for mere reading, it can never be 
fully appreciated till it has been used as a work of reference; for such 
it was intended to be. The work exhibits, according to the title- 
page, ' a view of literature and literary men in Great Britain for near 
half a century.' Boswell aspired to be not only stenographer but 
historian. And to the life that he loved he was both." 

— Chauncey Brewster Tinker. 



MEMBERS OF THE CLUB XIX 



The Chief Members of the Club l 

The Club was founded in 1764 by Sir Joshua Reynolds and Dr. 
Samuel Johnson, and for some years met on Monday evenings. In 
1772 the day of meeting was changed to Fridays, and about that 
time, instead of supping, the Club agreed to dine together once in 
every fortnight. In 1773 the Club, which at its foundation con- 
sisted of twelve members, was enlarged to twenty; in 1777 to twenty- 
six; in 1778 to thirty; in 1780 to thirty-five. It was then resolved 
that it should never exceed forty. Originally the Club met at the 
Turk's Head, in Gerrard Street, London, and continued to meet there 
until 1783, when their landlord died and the house was shut up. 
Thereafter, for a time, they met at Prince's in Sackville Street. 
The Club is still in existence. 

1. Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723-1792). A great painter, a clever 
man, and a fine gentleman. In addition to preserving for us the 
physical appearance of many of his great contemporaries, and of the 
fine ladies and gentlemen of the day, Reynolds delivered some able 
lectures as president of the Royal Academy and contributed three 
numbers to Johnson's Idler. Reynolds, who was rather hard of 
hearing, usually carried an ear trumpet; it is said that he became 
particularly hard of hearing when a bore approached. 

2. Edmund Burke (1729-1797). A great English statesman and 
an even greater English writer. He was concerned in three great 
causes: that of the American colonies, whose views he espoused 
that of the French Revolution, the violence of which horrified him; 
and that of Warren Hastings, whom he impeached for his crimes 
against India. Burke and Johnson entertained the profoundest ad- 
miration for each other. 

3. Bennet Langton (1737-1801). Langton was an ardent stu- 
dent of Greek and Roman writers, and succeeded Johnson as Pro- 
fessor of Ancient Literature in the Royal Academy. He was a man 
of great goodness of character. 

4. Topham Beauclerk (1739-1780). Beau clerk was the "fine 
gentleman" of Johnson's circle. He belonged to an ancient noble 
family, and reckoned his descent direct from Henry IV of France 
and Charles II of England. He had undoubted talents and won 
the close affection of Langton and of Johnson. 

5. Oliver Goldsmith (1728-1774). Every group has its butt: 
Goldsmith, whose genius was equalled by none, was the butt of the 
Club, although now and then he managed to get in a shrewd retort. 
(See his Retaliation.) Goldsmith produced several masterpieces of 
different kinds: a great novel, The Vicar of Wakefield; a great play, 
She Stoops to Conquer ; and a great poem, The Deserted Village. He 
wrote much else, and all of his works are interesting reading. Of 

* See also pages xxi and 248-9. 



XX INTRODUCTION 

the Club, Goldsmith and Gibbon had least to be vain of in personal 
appearance, and both were rather sensitive on this point. 

6. Thomas Percy (1729-1811). Dr. Percy was a clergyman and 
antiquarian. His Reliques of Ancient English Poetry (1764) was one 
of the most influential books of the century and helped to produce 
the romantic revival in poetry. Dr. Johnson by disposition was 
unable to appreciate the views and tendencies of Bishop Percy and 
his work. 

7. David Garrick (1716-1779). Probably the greatest English 
actor of any age, equally able in parts of comedy and tragedy. By 
his performance of Shakespeare, Garrick helped to revive ■ the in- 
fluence of that great writer. Johnson said of his death that it 
"eclipsed the gayety of nations." 

8. Sir William Jones (1746-1794). A famous lawyer and 
student of Oriental literature. Jones had a remarkably wide knowl- 
edge of the literatures of the East, and helped to make them known 
to English readers. He also wrote some excellent verse; his best- 
known lines are "What Constitutes a State?" 

9. Edward Gibbon (1737-1794). Gibbon's greatest work was 
The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. The style 
of this is magnificent and eloquent, and is said to have been influenced 
by Johnson. Gibbon, like Goldsmith, was rather unpleasing in 
appearance. 

10. Adam Smith (1723-1790). A Scotch writer, author of the 
standard work, The Wealth of Nations, which established the science 
of political economy. 

11. Richard Brinsley Sheridan (1751-1816). Sheridan was 
the son of Johnson's one-time friend Thomas Sheridan. He wrote 
two of the finest comedies in the language: The Rivals and The 
School for Scandal, both still performed. After a successful career as 
a dramatist, he entered Parliament and attained great renown as 
an orator. 

12. Edmund Malone (1741-1812). A noted Shakespearian 
scholar. Malone constantly aided Boswell with advice during the 
writing of the Life of Johnson, and after Boswell's death he revised 
the later editions. 



XXI 



Retaliation: A Poem, by Oliver Goldsmith 

Including Epitaphs on the Most Distinguished Wits of this Metropolis 

[These verses were first published on April 18, 1774, just a fort- 
night after the author's death, and several editions were required 
in the same year. According to an account attributed to David 
Garrick, the origin of the poem is as follows: At a meeting of a com- 
pany of gentlemen, who were well known to each other, they diverted 
themselves, among other things, with the peculiar oddities of Dr. 
Goldsmith, who would never admit that anyone else was superior 
to him in any art, from writing poetry down to dancing a hornpipe. 
The Doctor on this occasion insisted with great eagerness on trying 
his epigrammatic powers with Mr. Garrick. It was agreed that 
each was to write the other's epitaph. Mr. Garrick immediately 
said that his epitaph was finished, and he produced the following 
distich : 

Here lies Nolly Goldsmith, for shortness call'd Noll, 
Who wrote like an angel, but talk'd like poor Poll. 

Goldsmith, upon the company's laughing very heartily, grew very 
thoughtful, and either would not, or could not, write anything at 
that time. However, he went to work, and some weeks later he 
produced the poem, Retaliation, which immediately made a decided 
hit.] 

Of old, when Scarron 1 his companions invited, 

Each guest brought his dish, and the feast was united; 

If our landlord 2 supplies us with beef and with fish, 

Let each guest bring himself — and he brings the best dish: , 

Our Dean 3 shall be venison, just fresh from the plains; 

Our Burke 4 shall be tongue, with a garnish of brains; 

Our Will 5 shall be wild-fowl, of excellent flavor, 

And Dick 8 with his pepper shall heighten the savor. 

Our Cumberland's 7 sweetbread its place shall obtain; 

And Douglas 8 is pudding, substantial and plain; 

Our Garrick's a salad, for in him we see 

Oil, vinegar, sugar, and saltness agree: 

To make out the dinner, full certain I am, 

That Ridge 9 is anchovy, and Reynolds 10 is lamb; 

That Hickey's 11 a capon; and, by the same rule, 

Magnanimous Goldsmith a gooseberry fool. 

At a dinner so various — at such a repast, 

Who'd not be a glutton, and stick to the last? 

Here, waiter, more wine! let me sit while I'm able, 

Till all my companions sink under the table; 

Then, with chaos and blunders encircling my head, 

Let me ponder, and tell what I think of the dead. 



XX11 INTRODUCTION 

Here lies our good Edmund, whose genius was such, 

We scarcely can praise it or blame it too much; 

Who, born for the universe, narrow'd his mind, 

And to party gave up what was meant for mankind: 

Though fraught with all learning, yet straining his throat 

To persuade Tommy Townshend 12 to lend him a vote; 

Who, too deep for his hearers, still went on refining, 

And thought of convincing, while they thought of dining: 1 ' 

Though equal to ail things, for all things unfit; 

Too nice for a statesman, too proud for a wit; 

For a patriot, too cool; for a drudge, disobedient; 

And too fond of the right to pursue the expedient. 

In short, 'twas his fate, unemploy'd or in place, sir, 

To eat mutton cold, and cut blocks with a razor. 



Here lies David Garrick, describe me who can, 

An abridgment of all that was pleasant in man; 

As an actor, confess't without rival to shine, 

As a wit, if not first, in the very first line: 

Yet with talents like these, and an excellent heart, 

This man had his failings, a dupe to his art. 

Like an ill-judging beauty, his colors he spread, 

And beplaster'd with rouge his own natural red. 

On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting; 

'Twas only that when he was off he was acting. 

With no reason on earth to go out of his way, 

He turn'd and he varied full ten times a day: 

Though secure of our hearts, yet confoundedly sick 

If they were not his own by finessing and trick: 

He cast off his friends, as a huntsman his pack, 

For he knew when he pleased he could whistle them back. 

Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came, 

And the puff of a dunce, he mistook it for fame; 

Till his relish, grown callous almost to disease, 

Who pepper'd the most, was surest to please. 

But let us be candid, and speak out our mind, 

If dunces applauded, he paid them in kind. 

Ye Kenricks, ye Kellys, and Woodfalls 14 so grave, 

What a commerce was yours, while you got and you gave! 

How did Grub Street re-echo the shouts that you raised, 

While he was be-Roscius'd, and you were bepraised! 

But peace to his spirit wherever it flies, 

To act as an angel and mix with the skies: 

Those poets who owe their best fame to his skill 

Shall still be flatterers, go where he will, 

Old Shakespeare receive him with praise and with love, 

And Beaumonts and Bens 15 be his Kellys above. 



Here Reynolds is laid, and, to tell you my mind, 
He has not left a wiser or better behind; 
His pencil was striking, resistless, and grand, 
His manners vere gentle, complying, and bland: 



XX111 



Still born to improve us in every part, 

His pencil our faces, his manners our heart. 

To coxcombs averse, yet most civilly steering, 

When they judg'd without skill, he was still hard of hearing: 

When they talk'd of their Raphaels, Correggios, and stuff, 

He shifted his trumpet, and only took snuff. 



Notes. — 1. Scarron. — An old French dramatist. 2. Our landlord. — 
The master of the St. James's Coffee-house. 3. Our Dean. — Dr. Barnard, 
Dean of Deny. 4. Our Burke. — Edmund Burke. 5. Our Will. — William 
Burke, a kinsman of Edmund and a member of Parliament. 6. Dick. — 
Richard Burke, a younger brother of Edmund. 7. Cumberland. — Richard 
Cumberland, a dramatist. 8. Douglas. — Dr. John Douglas, afterwards 
Bishop of Salisbury. 9. Ridge. — A member of the Irish bar. 10. Rey- 
nolds. — Sir Joshua Reynolds. 11. Hickey. — An eminent attorney. 12. 
Tommy Townshend. — A member of Parliament, afterwards Lord Sydney. 
13. They thought of dining. — It is said that the beginning of a speech by 
Burke was regarded as an opportunity by his fellow members of Parliament 
for retiring to dinner. On the floor Burke's speeches were often ineffective, be- 
cause too long and too thoughtful, but when they were published after oral 
delivery in pamphlet form they proved very powerful. Burke was known by 
the sobriquet of "the dinner-bell." 14. Kenricks, Kellys, and Woodfalls. — 
Contemporary dramatists and journalists, of a very minor sort, who praised 
Garrick extravagantly and compared him to Roscius, the great Roman actor, 
and in turn were as extravagantly praised by him. 15. Beaumonts and Bens. 
— Francis Beaumont and Ben Jonson were two of the great contemporaries of 
Shakespeare. 

Goldsmith left his poem unfinished — his sketch of Reynolds, as 
a matter of fact, stopped in the middle of a line. It is likely that if 
he had lived, he would have added more — possibly a sketch of 
Johnson, certainly a sketch of himself. 



XXIV INTRODUCTION 



After Finishing Boswell: Suggested Reading 

Have you enjoyed reading Boswell? Then go on to the rest of 
his great biography; you will enjoy all of it. For anyone who be- 
comes an enthusiast on the subject of Dr. Johnson, there is an im- 
mense literature through which to travel — and more is being added 
every year. 

The following books will all contribute to the understanding of 
Johnson and of his era. As you read the books, be prepared to 
answer these questions: 

1. State very briefly some of the actual facts gleaned from your 
reading: make this a concise synopsis of what you have read. 

2. If possible, give some interesting details of the life of the period 
supplied by the book you read. 

3. What light was thrown on Johnson or Boswell by your reading? 
In what respects do you now understand Johnson or Boswell better? 

4. Pick out all interesting references to the men whom you find 
mentioned both in The Life of Johnson and in the supplementary 
volume. 

5. Write a frank personal opinion of the book read. Is it a valu- 
able book? What are the characteristics of its style? 

Suggestions for Supplementary Reading \ 
I. Three Good Editions of Boswell Unabridged 

The Everyman Library Edition, E. P. Dutton & Co., 2 volumes, 
$0.70, $1.00 or $1.40. 

The "Temple Classics" Edition, E. P. Dutton & Co., 6 volumes, 
$2.70 or $3.90. 

The George Bierbeck Hill Edition, Harper & Bros., 6 volumes, 
$12.00. 

II. Johnsoniana 

Boswell, James: The Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides. 
Bailey, J. C. : Dr. Johnson and His Circle. 
Broadley, A. M. : Dr. Johnson and Mrs. Thrale. 
Carlyle, Thomas: Essay on BoswelVs "Life of Johnson." 
Carlyle, Thomas: On Heroes, Hero-Worship, and the Heroic in 

History (The Hero as Man of Letters: Johnson). 
Craig, W. H. : Dr. Johnson and the Fair Sex: A Study of Contrasts, 
Elwin, Whitwell: Some 18th Century Men of Letters, Vol. II. 
Grant, Francis: Life of Johnson. 

Hill, G. B.: Dr. Johnson, His Friends and His Critics. 
Hill, G. B. : Johnsonian Miscellanies. 
Howard, Alfred, Editor: The Beauties of Johnson. 
Johnson, Samuel: The Essays of Johnson (S. J. Reid, Editor). 
Johnson, Samuel: History of Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia. 



SUGGESTED READING XXV 

Johnson, Samuel: Letters (collected and edited by G. B. Hill). 

Johnson, Samuel: The Lives of the Most Eminent English Poets 
(G. B. Hill, Editor, or Arthur Waugh, Editor). 

Johnson, Samuel: Select Essays (G B. Hill, Editor). 

Johnson, Samuel: Selections (C. G. Osgood, Editor). 

Johnson, Samuel: The Six Chief Lives of Johnson's "Lives of the 
Poets" (Matthew Arnold, Editor). 

Johnson, Samuel: Wit and Wisdom (G. B. Hill, Editor). 

Johnson, Samuel: Works (A. Chalmers, Editor). 

Johnson, Samuel: Works (Literary Club Edition). 

Macaulay, T. B.: Essay on BoswelVs "Life of Johnson" 

Macaulay, T. B.: Life of Johnson. 

Meynell, Alice and Chesterton, G. K.: Samuel Johnson (Selec- 
tions) . 

Mason, E. T., Editor: Samuel Johnson, His Words and His Ways. 

Raleigh, Sir Walter A. : Samuel Johnson. 

Raleigh, Sir Walter A. : Six Essays on Johnson. 

Reade, A. L. : Johnsonian Gleanings. 

Stephen, Sir Leslie: Samuel Johnson. 

Tinker, C. B.: Dr. Johnson and Fanny Burney. 

Thrale, H. L. : Anecdotes of the Late Samuel Johnson. 

III. Boswelliana 

Boswell, James: Letters to the Rev. W. J. Temple (Thos. Seccombe, 

Editor). 
Carlyle, Thomas: Essay on BoswelVs "Life of Johnson. 11 
Elwin, Whitwell: Some 18th Century Men of Letters, Vol. II. 
Fitzgerald, P. H. : Croker's Boswell and Boswell, 
Fitzgerald, P. H.: Life of James Boswell. 
Graham, H. G.: Scottish Men of Letters in the 18th Century. 
Leask, W. K. : James Boswell. 

Macaulay, T. B.: Essay on BoswelVs "Life of Johnson. 11 
Stephen, Sir Leslie : Studies of a Biographer, Vol. I. 

IV. Fiction in Which Johnson Is a Character 

Bodkin, M. M.: In the Days of Goldsmith. 
Colville, Harriet: Life's Anchor. 
Moore, F. F. : A Nest of Linnets. 
Moore, F. F. : The Jessamy Bride. 
Moore, F. F.: Fanny's First Novel. 
Thackeray, W. M.: The Virginians. 

V. 18th Century Writers 

Addison, Joseph and Steele, Sir Richard: The Spectator. 
Alden, R. M., Editor: Readings in English Prose of the 18th Century. 
Burke, Edmund: Speech on Conciliation with America. 



XXVI INTRODUCTION 

Burke, Edmund: A Letter to the Sheriffs of Bristol. 

Burney, Frances (Madame D'Arblay) : Evelina, or a Young Lady's 

Entrance into the World. 
Burney, Frances: Diary and Letters. 

Lord Chesterfield: Best Letters (E. G. Johnson, Editor). 
Cibber, Colley: An Apology for the Life of Mr. Colley Cibber. 
Dryden, John: MacFlecknoe. 
Dryden, John: Absalom and Achitophel. 
Dryden, John: All for Love, or The World Well Lost 
Fielding, Henry: Amelia. 
Goldsmith, Oliver: She Stoops to Conquer. 
Goldsmith, Oliver: The Traveler. 
Goldsmith, Oliver: The Deserted Village. 
Goldsmith, Oliver: The Vicar of Wakefield. 
Gray, Thomas: Poetical Works. 
Macpherson, James : Poems of Ossian. 
Percy, Thomas: Reliques of Ancient English Poetry. 
Pope, Alexander: The Rape of the Lock. 
Pope, Alexander: Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot. 
Pope, Alexander: Essay on Man. 
Richardson, Samuel: Clarissa Harlowe. 
Sheridan, R. B.: The Rivals. 
Sheridan, R. B. : The School for Scandal. 
Swift, Jonathan: Gulliver's Travels. 
Swift, Jonathan: The Journal to Stella. 

VI. Men and Manners of the 18th Century 

Archer, Thomas: The Highway of Letters. 

Baker, H. B.: English Actors. 

Beers, H. A.: English Romanticism in the 18th Century.] 

Birrell, Augustine : In the Name of the Bodleian. 

Birrell, Augustine: Men, Women, and Books. 

Birrell, Augustine: Obiter Dicta. 

Boulton, W. B.: The Amusements of Old London. 

Callow, Edward: Old London Taverns. 

Cambridge History of English Literature, Volumes 7, 8, 9, 10. 

Dennis, John: The Age of Pope. 

Dobson, Austin: 18th Century Studies. 

Dobson, Austin: 18th Century Vignettes. 

Dobson, Austin: Oliver Goldsmith: A Memoir. 

Garnett, Richard and Gosse, Edmund: English Literature: An 

Illustrated Record, Volume III. 
Gosse, Edmund: A History of 18th Century Literature. 
Guiney, L. I. : A Little English Gallery. 
Hale, Susan: Men and Manners of the 18th Century. 
Hubbard, Elbert: Little Journeys to the Homes of Eminent Orators. 
Hubbard, Elbert: Little Journeys to the Homes of Eminent Painters. 



SUGGESTED READING XXV11 

Irving, Washington: Oliver Goldsmith: A Biography. 

Lamb, Charles: Essays of Elia. 

Macaulay, T. B. : History of England from the Accession of James II. 

Macaulay, T. B.: Essay on Madame D'Arblay. 

Millar, J. H.: The Mid-1 8th Century 

Moore, F. F.: A Georgian Pageant. 

Paston, George: Sidelights on the Georgian Period. 

Perry, T. S. : English Literature in the 18th Century.. 

Planche, J. R. : History of British Costume. 

Pulling, F. S.: Sir Joshua Reynolds. 

Robins, Edward: Twelve Great Actors. 

Sainte-Beuve, C. A.: Portraits of the 18th Century. 

Seccombe, Thomas: The Age of Johnson. 

Seeley, L. B.: Mrs. Thrale, Afterwards Mrs. Piozzi. 

Stephen, Leslie: English Literature and Society in the 18th Century. 

Sweetser, M. F.: Artist Biographies (Volume III: Reynolds). 

Sidney, W. C: England and the English in the 18th Century. 

Synge, M. B.: Short History of Social Life in England. 

Taine, H. A. : History of English Literature. 

Thackeray, W. M. : English Humorists of the 18th Century* 

Thackeray, W. M.: The Four Georges. 

Tinker, C. B.: The Salon and English Letters. 

Traill, H. B.: Social England (Volume V). 

Wharton, Grace and Philip : Wits and Beaux of Society, 

Wheatley, H. B.: Hogarth's London. 



XXV111 INTRODUCTION 

[Questions and Exercises on BoswelPs 
" Life of Dr. Johnson " 

Note. — Answers to all questions should be supported by citations of 
definite passages in the text. Be sure to consult the Index. 

1. What unexpected qualities of Johnson's do you discover in 
Boswell's account of him? 

2. How would you know that Boswell was a Scotchman, aside 
from his own statements to that effect? 

3. Was Boswell absolutely subservient to Johnson's opinions? 

4. Does Boswell make any observations of his own that show 
sense and judgment? 

5. Mention some observations of Johnson's that seem to you to 
throw an interesting light upon human nature and human foibles. 

6. What efforts did Boswell make not only to secure facts for his 
biography of Johnson, but also to make certain that what he said 
was entirely accurate and truthful? 

7. Point out a number of the most striking observations of John- 
son's in which the effectiveness proceeds from some unexpected 
comparison. 

8. Point out other observations in which the effectiveness is due 
simply to exaggeration — hyperbole. 

9. Mention others in which the force is due simply to exactness 
and vigor of utterance. 

10. Name some other characteristics of Johnson's remarks, with 
illustrations. 

11. What opinions that Johnson held do you differ from strongly? 

12. What evidence is there that many great men regarded Boswell 
with friendship and respect? 

13. Show in what ways Boswell had a thorough understanding of 
Johnson, even so far as his weaknesses went. 

14. Were there any occasions when Boswell was right and John- 
son wrong in the opinions they expressed? 

15. What qualities in Johnson attracted Boswell strongly? Was 
it good or bad for Boswell to have so strong a veneration for 
Johnson? 

16. Was Boswell jealous of Johnson's other intimate friends? 
Why? 

17. What was the attitude of Johnson and his contemporaries 
toward nature and the beauties of scenery? 

18. What, on the other hand, was their attitude toward town 
life? toward human beings and human nature? 

19. Mention some peculiar habits and customs of the eighteenth 
century which are shown in the pages of Boswell. 

20. Was Carlyle right in thinking that Boswell's Life of Johnson 
gave a truer and fuller picture of the eighteenth century than any 



QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES XXIX 

history could have done? Do you feel, after reading Boswell, that 
Johnson's era was very different from the one in which you live? 

21. What interesting allusions to America are there in Boswell? 

22. What instances of rudeness do you find in Johnson's conduct? 
of kindness? What opinion did he himself hold on bluntness in 
conversation? 

23. Which is the best of Johnson's letters? Why? 

24. What, in your opinion, is the most humorous remark of 
Johnson's? his wisest saying? 

25. Why did Johnson talk so freely to Boswell? 

Exercises 

1. Draw a portrait, in your own words, of Dr. Johnson. 

2. Describe one of Johnson's homes in London. 

3. Describe Goldsmith or David Garrick — the man and his 
character. 

4. Who was Sir Joshua Reynolds? Topham Beauclerk? Bennet 
Langton? Oliver Goldsmith? Edmund Burke? David Garrick? 
Mr. Thrale? Mrs. Thrale? Paoli? General Oglethorpe? James 
Macpherson? Edward Gibbon? Charles James Fox? George III? 
Lord Chesterfield? 

5. Mention some interesting details regarding Boswell that you 
gather from the section upon him in the Introduction. 

6. What contradictory opinions regarding Boswell are expressed 
in the "Critical Opinions" cited in the Introduction? What is your 
own opinion? 

7. Report, in the manner of Boswell, an interesting conversation 
to which you listened recently or in which you participated. After 
you have finished, ask yourself: Was it as easy as it seemed to make 
the report? Is any special credit due Boswell for the accuracy and 
interest of his reports? 

8. Name what to your mind were the most interesting incidents 
in the life of* Johnson. Take one of these and write a paragraph re- 
garding it, with the topic: "The most interesting incident in Bos- 
well's Life of Johnson." 

9. See how much additional information you can obtain regarding 
each of the members of the Literary Club. 

10. Work out a chronological table showing the chief events in 
Johnson's life and his chief publications. 

11. Bring in a report upon one of the following topics: The 
Dress of Men in Johnson's Time; The Dress of Women; Means of 
Conveyance; The Prisons of Johnson's Time; The Taverns of 
Johnson's Time. 

12. Bring in a report on one of the following topics: The Tory 
Party in the Eighteenth Century ; The Whig Party in the Eighteenth 
Century; The Movement to Abolish Slavery; England and America; 
the Hanover Dynasty. 



XXX INTRODUCTION 

13. Bring in a report on Goldsmith's Vicar of Wakefield or She 
Stoops to Conquer. 

14. Bring in a report on Johnson's Rasselas, his Idler papers, or 
his Life of Pope. 

15. Bring in a report on Thackeray's The Virginians or Moore's 
The Jessamy Bride. 

16. Deduce some characteristics of Johnson's style from the ex- 
tracts in the Appendix. 

17. Find in the Notes instances of antithesis in Johnson's sentences. 

18. Point out some peculiarities of grammar in Boswell. 



ADDITIONAL EXERCISES XXXI 

Additional Exercises Based on Macaulay's 
" Life of Johnson " 

For pupils who are reading Boswell and Macaulay concurrently. 

1. Pick out the passages in Boswell that seem to have furnished 
Macaulay with the material for the successive paragraphs of his 
Life of Johnson. 

2. Has Macaulay compressed or expanded his material? 

3. In either case, does Macaulay exaggerate? omit essential de- 
tails? over-emphasize one or another factor? Is Macaulay in any 
sense unfair to Johnson? 

4. Is the language of Macaulay superior to that of Boswell? 
Justify your answer. 

5. Are you more conscious of "the author behind the pen" in the 
case of Boswell or in the case of Macaulay? 

6. Does Macaulay or Boswell give you a truer sense of those 
great spiritual qualities of Johnson which have won for him so many 
admirers, in his own time or since? 

7. From which biography do you gain a better portrait of the whole 
man, physical, mental, and spiritual? 

8. Macaulay himself was very fond of Boswell — at the moment 
of his death he was indeed reading the Life of Johnson. Was he fair 
to Boswell? (See the Critical Opinions.) 

9. Do you personally prefer Macaulay or Boswell? Why? 

10. Which is the better biography? What constitutes a good 
biography? 

11. Write a supplementary paragraph — as nearly as possible in 
Macaulay's own style — based on facts in Boswell's Life that Macau- 
lay did not use. 

12. Read and report upon Macaulay's and upon Carlyle's essays 
on Boswell's Life of Johnson. 



MAP OF LONDON. 




London in 1780. — Covent Garden and Westward. 

By employing a ruler to determine the boundaries of the lettered and numbered 
sections, the following places may be located : — 



Button's Coffee House, J, 8. 
Cock Lane, R, 4. 
Covent Garden, J, 9. 
Drury Lane, L, 7. 
Drury Lane Theatre, K, 7. 
Fleet St., P, 6. 
Grub St., IV, a. 
Johnson's Homes : 

Exeter St., K, 8. 

Woodstock St., Hanover Sq., 2?, 8. 

Castle St., H, 8. 

Strand, H, J, 10. 

Holbourn, N 9 4. 



Fetter Lane, O, 5, 6. 

Gray's Inn, M, 3. 

Inner Temple Lane, N, 8 

Johnson's Ct., Fleet St., P, 6. 

Bolt Ct., Fleet St., P, 6. 
Leicester House, F, 9. 
Literary Club : 

Gerrard St., F, 9. 

St. James's St., C, 12. 
Mitre Tavern, Fleet St., P, 6. 
Newgate, S, 5. 
Royal Exchange, X, Y, 6. 
St. James's Sq., D t 12. 



' Life of Johnson." 



«* ! in I vo i r^ | co i o 



1*1 



OTJira^ISS^ 



>;iiggp?-*g 



mfgM 





JAMES BOS WELL 



FROM THE PORTRAIT BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 



THE LIFE OF 
SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D. 

COMPREHENDING AN ACCOUNT OF HIS STUDIES 
AND WORKS, IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER; A 
SERIES OF HIS EPISTOLARY CORRESPONDENCE, 
CONVERSATIONS WITH MANY EMINENT PERSONS, 
AND ORIGINAL PIECES OF HIS COMPOSITION: 
THE WHOLE EXHIBITING A VIEW OF LITERATURE 
AND LITERARY MEN IN GREAT BRITAIN, FOR NEAR 
HALF A CENTURY DURING WHICH HE FLOURISHED. 

By JAMES BOSWELL, Esq. 



After my death I wish no other herald, 
No other speaker of my living actions, 
To keep mine honor from corruption, 
But such an honest chronicler as Griffith. 1 

1 See Dr. Johnson's letter of September 30, 1773: "Boswell writes a regular 
journal of our travels, which I think contains as much of what I say and do, 
as of all other occurrences together, 'for such a faithful chronicler is Griffith. 1 " 



DEDICATION TO 
SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 

My Dear Sir, 

Every liberal motive that can actuate an Author in the 
dedication of his labors concurs in directing me to you, as 
the person to whom the following Work should be inscribed. 

If there be a pleasure in celebrating the distinguished merit 
of a contemporary, mixed with a certain degree of vanity not 
altogether inexcusable, in appearing fully sensible of it, where 
can I find one, in complimenting whom I can with more 
general approbation gratify those feelings? Your excellence 
not only in the Art over which you have long presided with 
unrivalled fame, but also in Philosophy and elegant Litera- 
ture, is well known to the present, and will continue to be the 
admiration of future ages. Your equal and placid temper, 
your variety of conversation, your true politeness, by which 
you are so amiable in private society, and that enlarged hospi- 
tality which has long made your house a common centre of 
union for the great, the accomplished, the learned, and the 
ingenious; all these qualities I can, in perfect confidence of 
not being accused of flattery, ascribe to you. 

If a man may indulge an honest pride, in having it known 
to the world, that he has been thought worthy of particular 
attention by a person of the first eminence in the age in which 
he lived, whose company has been universally courted, I am 
justified in availing myself of the usual privilege of a Dedi- 
cation, when I mention that there has been a long and un- 
interrupted friendship between us. 

If gratitude should be acknowledged for favors received, 
I have this opportunity, my dear Sir, most sincerely to thank 
you for the many happy hours which I owe to your kindness, 
— for the cordiality with which you have at all times been 
pleased to welcome me, — for the number of valuable ac- 
quaintances to whom you have introduced me, — for the 

3 



4 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 

nodes coenaeque Deum, 1 which I have enjoyed under your 
roof. 

If a work should be inscribed to one who is master of the 
subject of it, and whose approbation, therefore, must ensure 
it credit and success, the life of Dr. Johnson is, with the 
greatest propriety, dedicated to Sir Joshua Reynolds, who was 
the intimate and beloved friend of that great man; the friend, 
whom he declared to be "the most invulnerable man he knew; 
whom, if he should quarrel with him, he should find the most 
difficulty how to abuse." You, my dear Sir, studied him, 
and knew him well: you venerated and admired him. Yet, 
luminous as he was upon the whole, you perceived all the 
shades which mingled in the grand composition; all the little 
peculiarities and slight blemishes which marked the literary 
Colossus. Your very warm commendation of the specimen 
which I gave in my Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, of my 
being able to preserve his conversation in an authentic and 
lively manner, which opinion the Public has confirmed, was 
the best encouragement for me to persevere in my purpose of 
producing the whole of my stores. 

In one respect, this Work will, in some passages, be different 
from the former. In my Tour, I was almost unboundedly 
open in my communications, and from my eagerness to dis- 
play the wonderful fertility and readiness of Johnson's wit, 
freely showed to the world its dexterity, even when I was my- 
self the object of it. I trusted that I should be liberally 
understood, as knowing very well what I was about, and by 
no means as simply unconscious of the pointed effects of the 
satire. I own, indeed, that I was arrogant enough to suppose 
that the tenor of the rest of the book would sufficiently guard 
me against such a strange imputation. But it seems I judged 
too well of the world; for, though I could scarcely believe 
it, I have been undoubtedly informed, that many persons, 
especially in distant quarters, not penetrating enough into 
Johnson's character, so as to understand his mode of treating 
his friends, have arraigned my judgment, instead of seeing 
that I was sensible of all that they could observe. 
1 Nights and feasts of the gods. 



DEDICATION 5 

It is related of the great Dr. Clarke, that when in one of his 
leisure hours he was unbending himself with a few friends in 
the most playful and frolicsome manner, he observed Beau 
Nash approaching; upon which he suddenly stopped; — 
"My boys, (said he), let us be grave: here comes a fool." 
The world, my friend, I have found to be a great fool, as to 
that particular on which it has become necessary to speak 
very plainly. I have, therefore, in this Work been more 
reserved; and though I tell nothing but the truth, I have still 
kept in my mind that the whole truth is not always to be 
exposed. This, however, I have managed so as to occasion 
no diminution of the pleasure which my book should afford; 
though malignity may sometimes be disappointed of its 
gratifications. 

I am, 

My dear Sir, 
Your much obliged friend, 
And faithful humble servant, 

James Boswell. 
London, 

- April 20, 1791. 



In t/tis flees 

and beside this pillar Jor many years 
attended Dmne Sery/ce, 

I Z5r(?/^7/^DOCTDR5ATlUELc)0HN50N 

The Philosopher Thefber 

The ardenC- Lexicographer 

The firofotincL Mpra/iScancithie/ 'Writer 

Dom /7qg Died^/78f 

In remenTbreince and nt>n.oUr 
of noS/e ^/acetifies no6/y embloyect 



Inscription on the Pew in St. Clement Danes 



I 



THE LIFE OF 
SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL. D. 



CHAPTER I (1709-1737) 
Birth, Education, and Early Years 

Birth of Johnson — His Parents — Anecdotes of His Childhood - 
— Touched by Queen Anne for the King's Evil — School Days — 
Reading at Home — Matriculation at Oxford^ — His Melancholy — 
Reading at College — ■ Resistance to College Discipline — Poverty 
and Pride — Withdrawal from Oxford — Death of His Father — 
Life at Birmingham — Marriage to r Mrs. Porter — Johnson's Acad- 
emy at Edial. 

Samuel Johnson was born at Lichfield, in Staffordshire, 
on the 18th of September, 1709; and his initiation into the 
Christian church was not delayed; for his baptism is re- 
corded, in the register of St. Mary's parish in that city, to 
have been performed on the day of his birth. His father is 
there styled Gentleman, a circumstance of which an ignorant 
panegyrist has praised him for not being proud; when the 
truth is, that the appellation of Gentleman, though now lost 
in the indiscriminate assumption of Esquire, was commonly 
taken by those who could not boast of gentility. His father 
was Michael Johnson, a native of Derbyshire, of obscure ex- 
traction, who settled in Lichfield as a bookseller and stationer. 
His mother was Sarah Ford, descended of an ancient race of 
substantial yeomanry in Warwickshire. They were well ad- 
vanced in years when they married, and never had more than 
two children, both sons; Samuel, their firstborn, who lived 
to be the illustrious character whose various excellence I am 
to endeavor to record, and Nathaniel, who died in his twenty- 
fifth year. 

Of the power of his memory, for which he was all his life 
eminent to a degree almost incredible, the following early 
instance was told me in his presence at Lichfield, in 1776, by 

7 



8 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1712-24 

his step-daughter, Mrs. Lucy Porter, as related to her by his 
mother. When he was a child in petticoats, and had learnt 
to read, Mrs. Johnson one morning put the common prayer- 
book into his hands, pointed to the collect for the day, and 
said, "Sam, you must get this by heart." She went upstairs, 
leaving him to study it: but by the time she had reached the 
second floor, she heard him following her. "What's the 
matter? " said she. "I can say it," he replied; and repeated 
it distinctly, though he could not have read it more than twice. 
Young Johnson had the misfortune to be much afflicted 
with the scrofula, or king's-evil, which disfigured a counte- 
nance naturally well formed, and hurt his visual nerves so 
much, that he did not see at all with one of his eyes, though 
iti-, appearance was little different from that of the other. 
There is amongst his prayers, one inscribed When my eye was 
restored to its use, which ascertains a defect that many of his 
friends knew he had, though I never perceived it. I supposed 
him to be only near-sighted; and indeed I must observe, that 
in no other respect could I discern any defect in his vision; 
on the contrary, the force of his attention and perceptive 
quickness made him see and distinguish all manner of objects, 
whether of nature or of art, with a nicety that is rarely to be 
found. When he and I were traveling in the Highlands of 
Scotland, and I pointed out to him a mountain which I 
observed resembled a cone, he corrected my inaccuracy, by 
showing me, that it was indeed pointed at the top, but that 
one side of it was larger than the other. And the ladies with 
whom he was acquainted agree, that no man was more nicely 
and minutely critical in the elegance of female dress. When 
I found that he saw the romantic beauties of Islam, in Derby- 
shire, much better than I did, I told him that he resembled 
an able performer upon a bad instrument. How false and 
contemptible then are all the remarks which have been made 
to the prejudice either of his candor or of his philosophy, 
founded upon a supposition that he was almost blind. It has 
been said, that he contracted this grievous malady from his 
nurse. His mother, yielding to the superstitious notion, 
which, it is wonderful to think, prevailed so long in this 



Age 3-15] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 9 

country, as to the virtue of the regal touch; a notion, which 
our kings encouraged, and to which a man of such enquiry 
and such judgment as Carte could give credit; carried him to 
London, where he was actually touched by Queen Anne. 
Mrs. Johnson indeed, as Mr. Hector informed me, acted by the 
advice of the celebrated Sir John Floyer, then a physician in 
Lichfield. Johnson used to talk of this very frankly ; and Mrs. 
Piozzi has preserved his very picturesque description of the 
scene, as it remained upon his fancy. Being asked if he could 
remember Queen Anne, — "He had (he said) a confused, but 
somehow a sort of solemn recollection of a lady in diamonds, 
and a long black hood." This touch, however, was without 
any effect. 

After having resided for some time at the house of his uncle, 
Cornelius Ford, Johnson was, at the age of fifteen, removed 
to the school of Stourbridge, in Worcestershire, of which Mr. 
Wentworth was then master. 

The two years which he spent at home, after his return from 
Stourbridge, he passed in what he thought idleness, and was 
scolded by his father for his want of steady application. He 
had no settled plan of life, nor looked forward at all, but 
merely lived from day to day. Yet he read a great deal in a 
desultory manner, without any scheme of study, as chance 
threw books in his way, and inclination directed him through 
them. He used to mention one curious instance, of his casual 
reading, when but a boy. Having imagined that his brother 
had hid some apples behind a large folio upon an upper shelf 
in his father's shop, he climbed up to search for them. There 
were no apples; but the large folio proved to be Petrarch, 
whom he had seen mentioned, in some preface, as one of the 
restorers of learning. His curiosity having been thus excited, 
he sat down with avidity, and read a great part of the book. 
What he read during these two years, he told me, was not 
works of mere amusement, "not voyages and travels, but all 
literature, Sir, all ancient writers, all manly: though but 
little Greek, only some of Anacreon and Hesiod : but in this 
irregular manner (added he) I had looked into a great many 
books which were not commonly known at the Universities, 



10 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1728 

where they seldom read any books but what are put into their 
hands by their tutors; so that when I came to Oxford, Dr. 
Adams, now master of Pembroke College, told me, I was the 
best qualified for the University that he had ever known come 
there." 

In estimating the progress of his mind during these two 
years, as well as in future periods of his life, we must not re- 
gard his own hasty confession of idleness; for we see, when he 
explains himself, that he was acquiring various stores; and, 
indeed he himself concluded the account with saying, "I 
would not have you think I was doing nothing then." He 
might, perhaps, have studied more assiduously; but it may 
be doubted, whether such a mind as his was not more enriched 
by roaming at large in the fields of literature, than if it had 
been confined to any single spot. The analogy between body 
and mind is very general, and the parallel will hold as to their 
food, as well as any other particular. The flesh of animals 
who feed excursively, is allowed to have a higher flavor than 
that of those who are cooped up. May there not be the same 
difference between men who read as their taste prompts, and 
men who are confined in cells and colleges to stated tasks? 

That a man in Mr. Michael Johnson's circumstances should 
think of sending his son to the expensive University of 
Oxford, at his own charge, seems very improbable. The 
subject was too delicate to question Johnson upon; but I 
have been assured by Dr. Taylor, that the scheme never 
would have taken place, had not a gentleman of Shropshire, 
one of his schoolfellows, spontaneously undertaken to support 
him at Oxford, in the character of his companion: though, 
in fact, he never received any assistance whatever from that 
gentleman. 

He, however, went to Oxford, and was entered a commoner 
of Pembroke College, on the 31st of October, 1728, being then 
in his nineteenth year. 

The Reverend Dr. Adams, who afterwards presided over 
Pembroke College with universal esteem, told me he was 
present, and gave me some account of what passed on the 
night of Johnson's arrival at Oxford. On that evening, his 




PEMBROKE COLLEGE, OXFORD 



Age 20] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 11 

father, who had anxiously accompanied him, found means to 
have him introduced to Mr. Jorden, who was to be his tutor. 
His being put under any tutor, reminds us of what Wood says 
of Robert Burton, author of the Anatomy of Melancholy, when 
elected student of Christ Church: "for form's sake, though he 
wanted not a tutor, he was put under the tuition of Dr. John 
Bancroft, afterwards Bishop of Oxon." 

His father seemed very full of the merits of his son, and told 
the company he was a good scholar, and a poet, and wrote 
Latin verses. His figure and manner appeared strange to 
them; but he behaved modestly, and sat silent, till upon 
something which occurred in the course of conversation, he 
suddenly struck in and quoted Macrobius; and thus he gave 
the first impression of that more extensive reading in which 
he had indulged himself. 

The "morbid melancholy," which was lurking in his con- 
stitution, and to which we may ascribe those particularities, 
and that aversion to regular life, which, at a very early period, 
marked his character, gathered such strength in his twentieth 
year, as to afflict him in a dreadful manner. While he was 
at Lichfield, in the college vacation of the year 1729, he felt 
himself overwhelmed with an horrible hypochondria, with 
perpetual irritation, fretfulness, and impatience; and with a 
dejection, gloom, and despair, which made existence misery. 
From this dismal malady he never afterwards was perfectly 
relieved; and all his labors, and all his enjoyments, were but 
temporary interruptions of its baleful influence. How won- 
derful, how unsearchable are the ways of God! Johnson, 
who was blest with all the powers of genius and understand- 
ing in a degree far above the ordinary state of human nature, 
was at the same time visited with a disorder so afflictive, that 
they who know it by dire experience, will not envy his exalted 
endowments. That it was, in some degree, occasioned by a 
defect in his nervous system, that inexplicable part of our 
frame, appears highly probable. He told Mr. Paradise that 
he was sometimes so languid and inefficient, that he could not 
distinguish the hour upon the town-clock. 

It is a common effect of low spirits or melancholy, to make 



12 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1729 

those who are afflicted with it imagine that they are actually 
suffering those evils which happen to be most strongly pre- 
sented to their minds. Some have fancied themselves to be 
deprived of the use of their limbs, some to labor under acute 
diseases, others to be in extreme poverty; when, in truth, 
there was not the least reality in any of the suppositions; so 
that when the vapors were dispelled, they were convinced of 
the delusion. To Johnson, whose supreme enjoyment was 
the exercise of his reason, the disturbance or obscuration of 
that faculty was the evil most to be dreaded. Insanity, 
therefore, was the object of his most dismal apprehension; 
and he fancied himself seized by it, or approaching to it, at 
the very time he was giving proofs of a more than ordinary 
soundness and vigor of judgment. That his own diseased 
imagination should have so far deceived him, is strange; but 
it is stranger still that some of his friends should have given 
credit to his groundless opinion, when they had such un- 
doubted proofs that it was totally fallacious; though it is by 
no means surprising that those who wish to depreciate him, 
should, since his death, have laid hold of this circumstance, 
and insisted upon it with very unfair aggravation. 

The particular course of his reading while at Oxford, and 
during the time of vacation which he passed at home, cannot 
be traced. Enough has been said of his irregular mode of 
study. He told me, that from his earliest years he loved to 
read poetry, but hardly ever read any poem to an end; that 
he read Shakespeare at a period so early, that the speech of the 
Ghost in Hamlet terrified him when he was alone; that Hor- 
ace's Odes were the compositions in which he took most 
delight, and it was long before he liked his Epistles and 
Satires. He told me what he read solidly at Oxford was 
Greek; not the Grecian historians, but Homer and Euripides, 
and now and then a little Epigram; that the study of which 
he was the most fond was Metaphysics, but he had not read 
much, even in that way. I always thought that he did him- 
self injustice in his account of what he had read, and that he 
must have been speaking with reference to the vast portion 
of study which is possible, and to which a few scholars in the 



Age 20] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 13 

whole history of literature have attained; for when I once 
asked him whether a person whose name I have now forgotten, 
studied hard, he answered, "No, Sir. I do not believe he 
studied hard. I never knew a man who studied hard. I con- 
clude, indeed, from the effects, that some men have studied 
hard, as Bentley and Clarke." Trying him by that criterion 
upon which he formed his judgment of others, we may be ab- 
solutely certain, both from his writings and his conversation, 
that his reading was very extensive. Dr. Adam Smith, than 
whom few were better judges on this subject, once observed 
to me, that " Johnson knew more books than any man alive/ ' 
He had a peculiar facility in seizing at once what was valuable 
in any book, without submitting to the labor of perusing it 
from beginning to end. He had, from the irritability of his 
constitution, at all times, an impatience and hurry when he 
either read or wrote. A certain apprehension, arising from 
novelty, made him write his first exercise at College twice 
over; but he never took that trouble with any other composi- 
tion: and we shall see that his most excellent works were 
struck off at a heat, with rapid exertion. 

Dr. Adams told me that Johnson, while he was at Pembroke 
College, "was caressed and loved by all about him, was a gay 
and frolicsome fellow, and passed there the happiest part of 
his life." But this is a stiking proof of the fallacy of appear- 
ances, and how little any of us know of the real internal state 
even of those whom we see most frequently; for the truth is, 
that he was then depressed by poverty, and irritated by dis- 
ease. When I mentioned to him this account as given me by 
Dr. Adams, he said, "Ah, Sir, I was mad and violent. It was 
bitterness which they mistook for frolic. I was miserably 
poor, and I thought to fight my way by my literature and my 
wit; so I disregarded all power and all authority." 

The Bishop of Dromore observes in a letter to me, "The 
pleasure he took in vexing the tutors and fellows has been 
often mentioned. But I have heard him say, what ought to 
be recorded to the honor of the present venerable master of 
that College, the Reverend William Adams, D.D., who was 
then very young, and one of the junior fellows; that the mild 



14 LIFE OF DE. JOHNSON [1729-31 

but judicious expostulations of this worthy man, whose virtue 
awed him, and whose learning he revered, made him really 
ashamed of himself, l though I fear (said he) I was too proud 
to own it.' 

"I have heard from some of his contemporaries that he was 
generally seen lounging at the College gate, with a circle of 
young students round him, whom he was entertaining with 
wit, and keeping from their studies, if not spiriting them up 
to rebellion against the College discipline, which in his 
maturer years he so much extolled." 

He was not, however, blind to what he thought the defects 
of his own college: and I have, from the information of Dr. 
Taylor, a very strong instance of that rigid honesty which he 
ever inflexibly preserved. Taylor had obtained his father's 
consent to be entered of Pembroke, that he might be with his 
schoolfellow Johnson, with whom, though some years older 
than himself, he was very intimate. This would have been a 
great comfort to Johnson. But he fairly told Taylor that he 
could not, in conscience, suffer him to enter where he knew he 
could not have an able tutor. He then made enquiry all 
round the University, and having found that Mr. Bateman, 
of Christ-Church, was the tutor of highest reputation, Taylor 
was entered of that College. Mr. Bateman's lectures were so 
excellent, that Johnson used to come and get them at second- 
hand from Taylor, till his poverty being so extreme, that his 
shoes were worn out, and his feet appeared through them, he 
saw that this humiliating circumstance was perceived by the 
Christ-Church men, and he came no more. He was too proud 
to accept of money, and somebody having set a pair of new 
shoes at his door, he threw them away with indignation. 
How must we feel when we read such an anecdote of Samuel 
Johnson ! 

The res angusta domi 1 prevented him from having the ad- 
vantage of a complete academical education. The friend to 
whom he had trusted for support had deceived him. His 
debts in College, though not great, were increasing; and his 
scanty remittances from Lichfield, which had all along been 
Straitened circumstances. From Juvenal, Satires, iii, 164. 



Age 23-24] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 15 

made with great difficulty, could be supplied no longer, his 
father having fallen into a state of insolvency. Compelled, 
therefore, by irresistible necessity, he left the College in 
autumn, 1731, without a degree, having been a member of it 
a little more than three years. 

And now (I had almost said poor) Samuel Johnson returned 
to his native cit}^, destitute, and not knowing how he should 
gain even a decent livelihood. His father's misfortunes in 
trade rendered him unable to support his son; and for some 
time there appeared no means by which he could maintain 
himself. In the December of this year his father died. 

The state of poverty in which he died, appears from a note 
in one of Johnson's little diaries of the following year, which 
strongly displays his spirit and virtuous dignity of mind. 
"1732, July 15. — I laid by eleven guineas on this day, when 
I received twenty pounds, being all that I have reason to hope 
for out of my father's effects, previous to the death of my 
mother; an event which I pray God may be very remote. I 
now therefore see that I must make my own fortune. Mean- 
while, let me take care that the powers of my mind be not 
debilitated by poverty, and that indigence do not force me 
into any criminal act." 

Being now again totally unoccupied, he was invited by Mr. 
Hector to pass some time with him at Birmingham, as his 
guest, at the house of Mr. Warren, with whom Mr. Hector 
lodged and boarded. Mr. Warren was the first established 
bookseller in Birmingham, and was very attentive to Johnson, 
who he soon found could be of much service to him in his trade, 
by his knowledge of literature; and he even obtained the 
assistance of his pen in furnishing some numbers of a periodi- 
cal Essay printed in the newspaper, of which Warren was the 
proprietor. After very diligent enquiry, I have not been able 
to recover those early specimens of that particular mode of 
writing by which Johnson afterwards so greatly distinguished 
himself. 

, He continued to live as Mr. Hector's guest for about six 
months, and then hired lodgings in another part of the town, 
finding himself as well situated at Birmingham as he supposed 



16 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1733-36 

he could be anywhere, while he had no settled plan of life, and 
very scanty means of subsistence. He made some valuable 
acquaintances there, amongst whom were Mr. Porter, a 
mercer, whose widow he afterwards married, and Mr. Taylor, 
who by his ingenuity in mechanical inventions, and his success 
in trade, acquired an immense fortune. But the comfort of 
being near Mr. Hector, his old school-fellow and intimate 
friend, was Johnson's chief inducement to continue here. 
Miss Porter told me, that when he was first introduced to 
her mother, his appearance was very forbidding: he was then 
lean and lank, so that his immense structure of bones was 
hideously striking to the eye, and the scars of the scrofula 
were deeply visible. He also wore his hair, which was 
straight and stiff, and separated behind: and he often had, 
seemingly, convulsive starts and odd gesticulations, which 
tended to excite at once surprise and ridicule. Mrs. Porter 
was so much engaged by his conversation that she overlooked 
all these external disadvantages, and said to her daughter, 
"This is the most sensible man that I ever saw in my life." 

Though Mrs. Porter was double the age of Johnson, and her 
person and manner, as described to me by the late Mr. Gar- 
rick, were by no means pleasing to others, she must have had 
a superiority of understanding and talents, as she certainly 
inspired him with a more than ordinary passion; and she 
having signified her willingness to accept of his hand, he went 
to Lichfield to ask his mother's consent to the marriage; which 
he could not but be conscious was a very imprudent scheme, 
both on account of their disparity of years, and her want of 
fortune. But Mrs. Johnson knew too well the ardor of her 
son's temper, and was too tender a parent to oppose his in- 
clinations. 

I know not for what reason the marriage ceremony was not 
performed at Birmingham; but a resolution was taken that 
it should be at Derby, for which place the bride and bride- 
groom set out on horseback, I suppose in very good humor. 
But though Mr. Topham Beauclerk used archly to mention 
Johnson's having told him with much gravity, "Sir, it was a 
love marriage on both sides," I have had from my illustrious 



Age 27] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 17 

friend the following curious account of their journey to church 
upon the nuptial morn: — "Sir, she had read the old romances, 
and had got into her head the fantastical notion that a woman 
of spirit should use her lover like a dog. So, Sir, at first she 
told me that I rode too fast, and she could not keep up with 
me: and, when I rode a little slower, she passed me, and com- 
plained that I lagged behind. I was not to be made the slave 
of caprice; and I resolved to begin as I meant to end. I 
therefore pushed on briskly, till I was fairly out of her sight. 
The road lay between two hedges, so I was sure she could not 
miss it; and I contrived that she should soon come up with 
me. When she did, I observed her to be in tears. " 

This, it must be allowed, was a singular beginning of con- 
nubial felicity; but there is no doubt that Johnson, though 
he thus showed a manly firmness, proved a most affectionate 
and indulgent husband to the last moment of Mrs. Johnson's 
life: and in his "Prayers and Meditations," we find very 
remarkable evidence that his regard and fondness for her 
never ceased, even after her death. 

He now set up a private academy, for which purpose he 
hired a large house, well situated near his native city. In the 
Gentleman's Magazine for 1736, there is the following adver- 
tisement: "At Edial, near Lichfield, in Staffordshire, young 
gentlemen are boarded and taught the Latin and Greek 
Languages, by Samuel Johnson." But the only pupils that 
were put under his care were the celebrated David Garrick 
and his brother George, and a Mr. Offely, a young gentleman 
of good fortune who died early. As yet, his name had noth- 
ing of that celebrity which afterwards commanded the highest 
attention and respect of mankind. Had such an advertise- 
ment appeared after the publication of his London, or his 
Rambler, or his Dictionary, how would it have burst upon the 
world! with what eagerness would the great and the wealthy 
have embraced an opportunity of putting their sons under 
the learned tuition of Samuel Johnson. The truth, however, 
is, that he was not so well qualified for being a teacher of 
elements, and a conductor in learning by regular gradations, 
as men of inferior powers of mind. His own acquisitions had 



18 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1736-37 

been made by fits and starts, by violent irruptions into the 
regions of knowledge; and it could not be expected that his 
impatience would be subdued, and his impetuosity restrained, 
so as to fit him for a quiet guide to novices. The art of com- 
municating instruction, of whatever kind, is much to be 
valued; and I have ever thought that those who devote them- 
selves to this employment, and do their duty with diligence 
and success, are entitled to very high respect from the com- 
munity, as Johnson himself often maintained. Yet I am of 
opinion, that the greatest abilities are not only not required 
for this office, but render a man less fit for it. 

Johnson was not more satisfied with his situation as the 
master of an academy, than with that of the usher of a school; 
we need not wonder, therefore, that he did not keep his 
academy above a year and a half. From Mr. Garrick's 
account he did not appear to have been profoundly reverenced 
by his pupils. His oddities of manner, and uncouth gesticu- 
lations, could not but be the subject of merriment to them; 
and in particular, the young rogues used to listen at the door 
and peep through the key-hole, that they might turn into 
ridicule his tumultuous and awkward fondness for Mrs. 
Johnson, whom he used to name by the familiar appellation 
of Tetty or Tetsy, which, like Betty or Betsy, is provincially 
used as a contraction for Elizabeth, her Christian name, but 
which to us seems ludicrous, when applied to a woman of her 
age and appearance. Mr. Garrick described her to me as 
very fat, with a bosom of more than ordinary protuberance, 
with swelled cheeks, of a florid red, produced by thick paint- 
ing, and increased by the liberal use of cordials; flaring and 
fantastic in her dress, and affected both in her speech and her 
general behavior. I have seen Garrick exhibit her, by his 
exquisite talent of mimicry, so as to excite the heartiest bursts 
of laughter; but he, probably, as is the case in all such repre- 
sentations, considerably aggravated the picture. 



I 



CHAPTER II (1737-1748) 
Early Career of Johnson in London 

Journey to London with Garrick — Kindness of Hervey * — The 
Gentleman's Magazine • — Writing of the Debates of Parliament — 
Publication of London — Kindly Interest of Pope — His Letter to 
Richardson — Physical Eccentricities of Johnsonf — A Possible Ex- 
planation — Johnson's Filial Kindness — The Biography of Richard 
Savage — The Prologue for Garrick's Theatre — - The Prospectus 
for the Dictionary Addressed to Lord Chesterfield — Johnson's 
Methods of Work — His Helpers. 

Johnson now thought of trying his fortune in London, the 
great field of genius and exertion, where talents of every kind 
have the fullest scope, and the highest encouragement. It 
is a memorable circumstance that his pupil David Garrick 
went thither at the same time, with intent to complete his 
education, and follow the profession of the law, from which 
he was soon diverted by his decided preference for the stage. 

How he employed himself upon his first coming to London 
is not particularly known. He had a little money when he 
came to town, and he knew how he could live in the cheapest 
manner. His first lodgings were at the house of Mr. Norris, 
a staymaker, in Exeter-street, adjoining Catharine-street, in 
the Strand. "I dined (said he) very well for eight-pence, 
with very good company, at the Pine-Apple in New-street, 
just by. Several of them had traveled. They expected to 
meet every day; but did not know one another's names. 
It used to cost the rest a shilling, for they drank wine; but I 
had a cut of meat for six-pence, and bread for a penny, and 
gave the waiter a penny; so that I was quite well served, 
nay, better than the rest, for they gave the waiter nothing/ ' 

Amidst this cold obscurity, there was one brilliant circum- 
stance to cheer him; he was well acquainted with Mr. Henry 
Hervey, one of the branches of the noble family of that 

19 



20 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1738 

name, who had been quartered at Lichfield as an officer of 
the army, and had at this time a house in London, where 
Johnson was frequently entertained, and had an opportunity 
of meeting genteel company. Not very long before his death, 
he mentioned this, among other particulars of his life, which 
he was kindly communicating to me; and he described this 
early friend " Harry Hervey," thus: "He was a vicious man, 
but very kind to me. If you call a dog Hervey, I shall love 
him." 

The Gentleman' 's Magazine, begun and carried on by Mr. 
Edward Cave, under the name of Sylvanus Urban, had 
attracted the notice and esteem of Johnson, in an eminent 
degree, before he came to London as an adventurer in litera- 
ture. He told me, that when he first saw St. John's Gate, 
the place where that deservedly popular miscellany was 
originally printed, he " beheld it with reverence." I suppose, 
indeed, that every young author has had the same kind of 
feeling for the magazine or periodical publication which has 
first entertained him, and in which he has first had an op- 
portunity to see himself in print, without the risk of exposing 
his name. I myself recollect such impressions from The 
Scots Magazine, which was begun at Edinburgh in the year 
1739, and has been ever conducted with judgment, accuracy, 
and propriety. I yet cannot help thinking of it with an 
affectionate regard. Johrlson has dignified the Gentleman 's 
Magazine, by the importance with which he invests the life 
of Cave; but he has given it still greater lustre by the various 
admirable Essays which he wrote for it. 

It appears that he was now enlisted by Mr. Cave as a 
regular coadjutor in his magazine, by which he probably 
obtained a tolerable livelihood. At what time, or by what 
means, he had acquired a competent knowledge both of 
French and Italian, I do not know; but he was so well skilled 
in them, as to be sufficiently qualified for a translator. That 
part of his labor which consisted in emendation and improve- 
ment of the productions of other contributors, like that em- 
ployed in leveling ground, can be perceived only by those 
who had an opportunity of comparing the original with the 



Age 29] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 21 

altered copy. What we certainly know to have been done 
by him in this way, was the Debates in both houses of Parlia- 
ment, under the name of The Senate of Lilliput, sometimes 
with feigned denominations of the several speakers, some- 
times with denominations formed of the letters of their real 
names, in the manner of what is called anagram, so that they 
might easily be deciphered. Parliament then kept the press 
in a kind of mysterious awe, which made it necessary to have 
recourse to such devices. In our time it has acquired an 
unrestrained freedom, so that the people in all parts of the 
kingdom have a fair, open, and exact report of the actual 
proceedings of their representatives and legislators, which 
in our constitution is highly to be valued; though, unques- 
tionably, there has of late been too much reason to complain 
of the petulance with which obscure scribblers have pre- 
sumed to treat men of the most respectable character and 
situation. 

The debates in Parliament, which were brought home and 
digested by Guthrie, whose memory, though surpassed by 
others who have since followed him in the same department, 
was yet very quick and tenacious, were sent by Cave to 
Johnson for his revision; and, after some time, when Guthrie 
had attained to greater variety of employment, and the 
speeches were more and more enriched by the accession of 
Johnson's genius, it was resolved that he should do the whole 
himself, from the scanty notes furnished by persons employed 
to attend in both houses of Parliament. Sometimes, how- 
ever, as he himself told me, he had nothing more communi- 
cated to him than the names of the several speakers, and the 
part which they had taken in the debate. 

But what first displayed his transcendent powers, and 
"gave the world assurance of the man/' was his London, a 
Poem, in Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal; which 
came out in May this year, and burst forth with a splendor, 
the rays of which will for ever encircle his name. 

To us who have long known the manly force, bold spirit, 
and masterly versification of this poem, it is a matter of 
curiosity to observe the diffidence with which its author 



22 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1738 

brought it forward into public notice, while he is so cautious 
as not to avow it to be his own production; and with what 
humility he offers to allow the printer to " alter any stroke 
of satire which he might dislike. " That any such alteration 
was made, we do not know. If we did, we could not but 
feel an indignant regret; but how painful is it to see that a 
writer of such vigorous powers of mind was actually in such 
distress, that the small profit which so short a poem, however 
excellent, could yield, was courted as a " relief." 

Johnson's London was published in May, 1738; and it is 
remarkable, that it came out on the same morning with 
Pope's satire, entitled 1738; so that England had at once its 
Juvenal and Horace as poetical monitors. The Reverend 
Dr. Douglas, now Bishop of Salisbury, to whom I am in- 
debted for some obliging communications, was then a student 
at Oxford, and remembers well the effect which London pro- 
duced. Everybody was delighted with it; and there being 
no name to it, the first buzz of the literary circle was, "here is 
an unknown poet, greater even than Pope." And it is re- 
corded in the Gentleman's Magazine of that year, that it 
"got to the second edition in the course of a week." 

Pope, who then filled the poetical throne without a rival, 
it may reasonably be presumed, must have been particularly 
struck by the sudden appearance of such a poet; and, to his 
credit, let it be remembered, that his feelings and conduct on 
the occasion were candid and liberal, tie requested Mr. 
Richardson, son of the painter, to endeavor to find out who 
this new author was. Mr. Richardson, after some inquiry, 
having informed him that he had discovered only that his 
name was Johnson, and that he was some obscure man, 
Pope said, "He will soon be deterre. 1 " We shall presently 
see, from a note written by Pope, that he was himself after- 
wards more successful in his inquiries than his friend. 

As Mr. Pope's note concerning Johnson, alluded to in a 

former page, refers both to his London, and his Marmor 

Norfolciense, I have deferred inserting it till now. I am 

indebted for it to Dr. Percy, the Bishop of Dromor, who per- 

1 Unearthed. 



Age 30] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 23 

mitted me to copy it from the original in his possession. It 
was presented to his Lordship by Sir Joshua Reynolds, to 
whom it was given by the son of Mr. Richardson the painter, 
the person to whom it is addressed. I have transcribed it 
with minute exactness, that the peculiar mode of writing, 
and imperfect spelling of that celebrated poet, may be ex- 
hibited to the curious in literature. It justifies Swift's epi- 
thet of " paper-sparing Pope," for it is written on a slip no 
larger than a common message-card, and was sent to Mr. 
Richardson, along with the imitation of Juvenal. 

"This is imitated by one Johnson who put in for a Public- 
school in Shropshire, but was disappointed. He has an in- 
firmity of the convulsive kind, that attacks him sometimes, 
so as to make Him a sad Spectacle. Mr P. from the Merit 
of This Work which was all the knowledge he had of Him 
endeavor'd to serve Him without his own application; & 
wrote to my L d . gore, but he did not succeed. Mr. Johnson 
published afterw ds . another Poem in Latin with Notes the 
whole very Humerous calPd the Norfolk Prophecy. 

Johnson had been told of this note: and Sir Joshua Rey- 
nolds informed him of the compliment which it contained, 
but, from delicacy, avoided showing him the paper itself. 
When Sir Joshua observed to Johnson that he seemed very 
desirous to see Pope's note, he answered, "Who would not 
be proud to have such a man as Pope so solicitous in enquir- 
ing about him?" 

The infirmity to which Mr. Pope alludes, appeared to me 
also, as I have elsewhere observed, to be of the convulsive 
kind, and of the nature of that distemper called St. Vitus's 
dance; and in this opinion I am confirmed by the description 
which Sydenham gives of that disease. "This disorder is a 
kind of convulsion. It manifests itself by halting or un- 
steadiness of one of the legs, which the patient draws after 
him like an idiot. If the hand of the same side be applied 
to the breast, or any other part of the body, he cannot keep 
it a moment in the same posture, but it will be drawn into a 
different one by a convulsion, notwithstanding all his efforts 



24 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1739-43 

to the contrary/ ' Sir Joshua Reynolds, however, was of a 
different opinion, and favored me with the following paper: 

" Those motions or tricks of Dr. Johnson are improperly 
called convulsions. He could sit motionless, when he was 
told so to do, as well as any other man. My opinion is, that 
it proceeded from a habit which he had indulged himself in, 
of accompanying his thoughts with certain untoward actions, 
and those actions always appeared to me as if they were 
meant to reprobate some part of his past conduct. When- 
ever he was not engaged in conversation, such thoughts 
were sure to rush into his mind; and, for this reason, any 
company, any employment whatever, he preferred to being 
alone. The great business of his life (he said) was to escape 
from himself; this disposition he considered as the disease of 
his mind, which nothing cured but company. 

"One instance of his absence of mind and particularity, as 
it is characteristic of the man, may be worth relating. When 
he and I took a journey together into the West, we visited 
the late Mr. Banks, of Dorsetshire; the conversation turn- 
ing upon pictures, which Johnson could not well see, he re- 
tired to a corner of the room, stretching out his right leg as 
far as he could reach before him, then bringing up his left 
leg, and stretching his right still further on. The old gentle- 
man observing him, went up to him, and in a very courteous 
manner assured him, though it was not a new house, the 
flooring was perfectly safe. The Doctor started out of his 
reverie like a person waked out of his sleep, but spoke not a 
word." 

His circumstances were at this time embarrassed; yet his 
affection for his mother was so warm, and so liberal, that he 
took upon himself a debt of hers, which, though small in 
itself, was then considerable to him. This appears from the 
following letter which he wrote to Mr. Levett, of Lichfield, 
the original of which lies now before me. 

" To Mr. Levett, in Lichfield. 

11 Sir, December 1, 1743. 

"I am extremely sorry that we have encroached so much 
upon your forbearance with respect to the interest, which a 






Age 34-35] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 25 

great perplexity of affairs hindered me from thinking of with 
that attention that I ought, and which I am not immediately 
able to remit to you, but will pay it (I think twelve pounds,) 
in two months. I look upon this, and on the future interest 
of that mortgage, as my own debt; and beg that you will be 
pleased to give me directions how to pay it, and not mention 
it to my dear mother. If it be necessary to pay this in less 
time, I believe I can do it; but I take two months for cer- 
tainty, and beg an answer whether you can allow me so much 
time. I think myself very much obliged to your forbearance, 
and shall esteem it a great happiness to be able to serve you. 
I have great opportunities of dispersing anything that you 
may think it proper to make public. I will give a note for 
the money, payable at the time mentioned, to any one here 
that you shall appoint. I am, Sir, 

"Your most obedient 

"And most humble servant, 
"Sam. Johnson." 

It does not appear that he wrote anything in 1744 for the 
Gentleman's Magazine, but the Preface. His life of Barretier 
was now re-published in a pamphlet by itself. But he pro- 
duced one 'work this year, fully sufficient to maintain the 
high reputation which he had acquired. This was The Life 
of Richard Savage; a man of whom it is difficult to speak im- 
partially, without wondering that he was for some time the 
intimate companion of Johnson ; for his character was marked 
by profligacy, insolence, and ingratitude: yet, as he un- 
doubtedly had a warm and vigorous, though unregulated 
mind, had seen life in all its varieties, and been much in the 
company of the statesmen and wits of his time, he could 
communicate to Johnson an abundant supply of such mate- 
rials as his philosophical curiosity most eagerly desired; and 
as Savage's misfortunes and misconduct had reduced him to 
the lowest state of wretchedness as a writer for bread, his 
visits to St. John's Gate naturally brought Johnson and him 
together. 

It is melancholy to reflect, that Johnson and Savage were 



26 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1744 

sometimes in such extreme indigence, that they could not 
pay for a lodging; so that they have wandered together 
whole nights in the streets. Yet in these almost incredible 
scenes of distress, we may suppose that Savage mentioned 
many of the anecdotes with which Johnson afterwards en- 
riched the life of his unhappy companion, and those of other 
poets. 

I am afraid, however, that by associating with Savage, who 
was habituated to the dissipation and licentiousness of the 
town, Johnson, though his good principles remained steady, 
did not entirely preserve that conduct for which, in days of 
greater simplicity, he was remarked by his friend Mr. Hector; 
but was imperceptibly led into some indulgences which occa- 
sioned much distress to his virtuous mind. 

In February, 1744, [the Life] came forth from the shop 
of Roberts, between whom and Johnson I have not traced 
any connection, except the casual one of this publication. 
In Johnson's Life of Savage, although it must be allowed that 
its moral is the reverse of — Respiccre exemplar vitae morum- 
que jubebo, } a very useful lesson is inculcated, to guard men of 
warm passions from a too free indulgence of them; and the 
various incidents are related in so clear and animated a man- 
ner, and illuminated throughout with so much philosophy, 
that it is one of the most interesting narratives in the English 
language. Sir Joshua Reynolds told me, that upon his return 
from Italy he met with it in Devonshire, knowing nothing of 
its author, and began to read it while he was standing with 
his arm leaning against a chimney-piece. It seized his atten- 
tion so strongly, that, not being able to lay down the book 
till he had finished it, when he attempted to move, he found 
his arm totally benumbed. The rapidity with which this 
work was composed is a wonderful circumstance. Johnson 
has been heard to say, "I wrote forty-eight of the printed 
octavo pages of the Life of Savage at a sitting; but then I 
sat up all night." 

It is remarkable, that in this biographical disquisition there 

1 I recommend that you regard this exemplary life, these exem- 
plary habits. 



Age 35] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 27 

appears a very strong symptom of Johnson's prejudice against 
players; a prejudice that may be attributed to the following 
causes: first, the imperfections of his organs, which were so 
defective that he was not susceptible of the fine impressions 
which theatrical excellence produces upon the generality of 
mankind; secondly, the cold rejection of his tragedy; and, 
lastly, the brilliant success of Garrick, who had been his 
pupil, who had come to London at the same time with him, 
not in a much more prosperous state than himself, and whose 
talents he undoubtedly rated low, compared with his own. 
His being outstripped by his pupil in the race of immediate 
fame, as well as of fortune, probably made him feel some 
indignation, as thinking that whatever might be Garrick's 
merits in his art, the reward was too great when compared 
with what the most successful efforts of literary labor could 
attain. 

In 1746 it is probable that he was still employed upon his 
Shakespeare, which perhaps he laid aside for a time, upon 
account of the high expectations which were formed of War- 
burton's edition of that great poet. It is somewhat curious, 
that his literary career appears to have been almost totally 
suspended in the years 1745 and 1746, those years which were 
marked by a civil war in Great Britain, when a rash attempt 
was made to restore the House of Stuart to the throne. That 
he had a tenderness for that unfortunate House is well known; 
and some may fancifully imagine, that a sympathetic an- 
xiety impeded the exertion of his intellectual powers: but I 
am inclined to think, that he was, during this time, sketching 
the outlines of his great philological work. 

This year his old pupil and friend, David Garrick, having 
become joint patentee and manager of Drury-lane theatre, 
Johnson honored his opening of it with a Prologue, which 
for just and manly dramatic criticism on the whole range of 
the English stage, as well as for the poetical excellence, is 
unrivalled. Like the celebrated Epilogue to the Distressed 
Mother, it was, during the season, often called for by the 
audience. The most striking and brilliant passages of it 
have been so often repeated, and are so well recollected by 



28 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1747 

all the lovers of the drama, and of poetry, that it would be 
superfluous to point them out. In the Gentleman } s Magazine 
for December this year, he inserted an Ode on Winter, which 
is, I think, an admirable specimen of his genius for lyric 
poetry. 

But the year 1747 is distinguished as the epoch, when 
Johnson's arduous and important work, his Dictionary of the 
English Language, was announced to the world, by the pub- 
lication of its Plan or Prospectus. 

How long this immense undertaking had been the object 
of his contemplation, I do not know. I once asked him by 
what means he had attained to that astonishing knowledge 
of our language, by which he was enabled to realize a design 
of such extent and accumulated difficulty. He told me, 
that "it was not the effect of particular study; but that it 
had grown up in his mind insensibly." I have been in- 
formed by Mr. James Dodsley, that several years before this 
period, when Johnson was one day sitting in his brother 
Robert's shop, he heard his brother suggest to him, that a 
Dictionary of the English Language would be a work that 
would be well received by the public; that Johnson seemed 
at first to catch at the proposition, but, after a pause, said, 
in his abrupt decisive manner, "I believe I shall not under- 
take it." That he, however, had bestowed much thought 
upon the subject, before he published his Plan, is evident 
from the enlarged, clear, and accurate views which it exhibits; 
and we find him mentioning in that tract, that many of the 
writers whose testimonies were to be produced as authorities, 
were selected by Pope; which proves that he had been fur- 
nished, probably by Mr. Robert Dodsley, with whatever 
hints that eminent poet had contributed towards a great 
literary project, that had been the subject of important 
consideration in a former reign. 

The booksellers who contracted with Johnson, single and 
unaided, for the execution of a work, which in other coun- 
tries has not been effected but by the co-operating exertions 
of many, were Mr. Robert Dodsley, Mr. Charles Hitch, Mr. 
Andrew Millar, the two Messieurs Longman, and the two 



Age 38] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 29 

Messieurs Knapton. The price stipulated was fifteen hun- 
dred and twenty-five pounds. 

The Plan was addressed to Philip Dormer, Earl of Chester- 
field, then one of His Majesty's Principal Secretaries of 
State; a nobleman who was very ambitious of literary dis- 
tinction, and who, upon being informed of the design, had 
expressed himself in terms very favorable to its success. 
There is, perhaps, in everything of any consequence, a secret 
history which it would be amusing to know, could we have 
it authentically communicated. Johnson told me, "Sir, the 
way in w T hich the Plan of my Dictionary came to be inscribed 
to Lord Chesterfield, was this : I had neglected to write it by 
the time appointed. Dodsley suggested a desire to have it 
addressed to Lord Chesterfield. I laid hold of this as a pre- 
text for delay, that it might be better done, and let Dodsley 
have his desire. I said to my friend, Dr. Bathurst, 'Now if 
any good comes of my addressing to Lord Chesterfield, it 
will be ascribed to deep policy/ when, in fact, it was only a 
casual excuse for laziness." 

It is worthy of observation, that the Plan has not only the 
substantial merit of comprehension, perspicuity, and pre- 
cision, but that the language of it is unexceptionably excellent; 
it being altogether free from that inflation of style, and those 
uncommon but apt and energetic words, which in some of 
his writings have been censured, with more petulance than 
justice; and never was there a more dignified strain of 
compliment than that in which he courts the attention of 
one, who, he had been persuaded to believe, would be a re- 
spectable patron. 

"With regard to questions of purity or propriety, (says he) 
I was once in doubt whether I should not attribute to myself 
too much in attempting to decide them, and whether my 
province was to extend beyond the proposition of the ques- 
tion, and the display of the suffrages on each side; but I have 
been since determined by your Lordship's opinion, to inter- 
pose my own judgment, and shall therefore endeavor to sup- 
port what appears to me most consonant to grammar and 
reason. Ausonius thought that modesty forbade him to 



30 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1747 

plead inability for a task which Caesar had judged him 
equal : 

Cur me posse negem, posse quod ille putatf 1 

And I may hope, my Lord, that since you, whose authority 
in our language is so generally acknowledged, have commis- 
sioned me to declare my own opinion, I shall be considered as 
exercising a kind of vicarious jurisdiction; and that the power 
which might have been denied to my own claim, will be 
readily allowed me as the delegate of your Lordship." 

This passage proves, that Johnson's addressing his Plan to 
Lord Chesterfield was not merely in consequence of the re- 
sult of a report by means of Dodsley, that the Earl favored 
the design; but that there had been a particular communi- 
cation with his Lordship concerning it. Dr. Taylor told me, 
that Johnson sent his Plan to him in manuscript, for his 
perusal; and that when it was lying upon his table, Mr. 
William Whitehead happened to pay him a visit, and being 
shown it, was highly pleased with such parts of it as he had 
time to read, and begged to take it home with him, which he 
was allowed to do; that from him it got into the hands of a 
noble Lord, who carried it to Lord Chesterfield. When 
Taylor observed this might be an advantage, Johnson re- 
plied, "No, Sir, it would have come out with more bloom, if 
it had not been seen before by anybody." 

Dr. Adams found him one day busy at his Dictionary, when 
the following dialogue ensued. — "Adams. This is a great 
work, Sir. How are you to get all the etymologies? John- 
son. Why, Sir, here is a shelf with Junius, and Skinner, and 
others; and there is a Welsh gentleman who has published 
a collection of Welsh proverbs, who will help me with the 
Welsh. Adams. But, Sir, how can you do this in three 
years? Johnson. Sir, I have no doubt that I can do it in 
three years. Adams. But the French Academy, which con- 
sists of forty members, took forty years to compile their 
Dictionary. Johnson. Sir, thus it is. This is the propor- 
tion. Let me see; forty times forty is sixteen hundred. As 

1 Why should I deny I can do what he thinks I can do? 



Age 38-39] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 31 

three to sixteen hundred, so is the proportion of an English- 
man to a Frenchman." With so much ease and pleasantry 
could he talk of that prodigious labor which he had under- 
taken to execute. 

The public has had, from another pen, a long detail of 
what had been done in this country by prior Lexicographers; 
and no doubt Johnson was wise to avail himself of them, so 
far as they went; but the learned yet judicious research of 
etymology, the various, yet accurate display of definition, 
and the rich collection of authorities, were reserved for the 
superior mind of our great philologist. For the mechanical 
part he employed, as he told me, six amanuenses; and let it 
be remembered by the natives of North-Britain, to whom he 
is supposed to have been so hostile, that five of them were of 
that country. 

While the Dictionary was going forward, Johnson lived 
part of the time in Holborn, part in Gough-square, Fleet- 
street; and he had an upper room fitted up like a counting- 
house for the purpose, in which he gave to the copyists their 
several tasks. The words, partly taken from other diction- 
aries, and partly supplied by himself, having been first written 
down with spaces left between them, he delivered in writ- 
ing their etymologies, definitions, and various significations. 
The authorities were copied from the books themselves, in 
which he had marked the passages with a black lead pencil, 
the traces of which could easily be effaced. I have seen 
several of them, in which that trouble had not been taken; 
so that they were just as when used by the copyists. It is 
remarkable, that he was so attentive in the choice of the 
passages in which words were authorised, that one may read 
page after page of his Dictionary with improvement and 
pleasure; and it should not pass unobserved, that he has 
quoted no author whose writings had a tendency to hurt sound 
religion and morality. 

The necessary expense of preparing a work of such magni- 
tude for the press must have been a considerable deduction 
from the price stipulated to be paid for the copyright. I under- 
stand that nothing was allowed by the booksellers on that 



32 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1747-48 

account; and I remember his telling me, that a large portion 
of it having, by mistake, been written on both sides of the 
paper, so as to be inconvenient for the compositor, it cost 
him twenty pounds to have it transcribed upon one side only. 
He is now to be considered as " tugging at his oar," as en- 
gaged in a steady continued course of occupation, sufficient 
to employ all his time for some years; and which was the 
best preventive of that constitutional melancholy which was 
ever lurking about him, ready to trouble his quiet. But his 
enlarged and lively mind could not be satisfied without more 
diversity of employment, and the pleasure of animated re- 
laxation. He therefore not only exerted his talents in occa- 
sional composition, very different from Lexicography, but 
formed a club in Ivy-lane, Paternoster Row, with a view to 
enjoy literary discussion, and amuse his evening hours. 
The members associated with him in this little society were 
his beloved friend Dr. Richard Bathurst, Mr. Hawkesworth, 
afterwards well known by his writings, Mr. John Hawkins, 
an attorney, and a few others of different professions. 



CHAPTER III (1749-1757) 
The Period of Literary Activity 

Publication of The Vanity of Human Wishes — The Production of 
Irene — Johnson's Habits of Literary Composition — His Style — 
A Comparison with Addison — Death pf Johnson's Wife — His Deep 
Affection for Her — Some-of Johnson's Friends — Bennet Langton 
and Topham Beauclerk — Completion of the Dictionary — The Re- 
jection of Lord Chesterfield's Patronage — Johnson's Letter to 
Chesterfield — Johnson's Definitions — His Prejudices Exhibited — ■ 
Compensation for the Dictionary — Essays and Reviews on many 
Subjects — Proposals for an Edition of Shakespeare. 

In January, 1749, he published The Vanity of Human 
Wishes, being the Tenth Satire of Juvenal imitated. He, I 
believe, composed it the preceding year. Mrs. Johnson, for 
the sake of country air, had lodgings at Hampstead, to which 
he resorted occasionally, and there the greatest part, if not 
the whole, of his Imitation was written. The fervid rapidity 
with which it was produced is scarcely credible. I have 
heard him say, that he composed seventy lines of it in one 
day, without putting one of them on paper till they were 
finished. I remember when I once regretted to him that he 
had not given us more of Juvenal's Satires, he said, he prob- 
ably should give more, for he had them all in his head; by 
which I understood, that he had the originals and correspond- 
ent allusions floating in his mind, which he could, when he 
pleased, embody and render permanent without much labor. 
Some of them, however, he observed were too gross for imi- 
tation. 

The profits of a single poem, however excellent, appear to 
have been very small in the last reign, compared with what 
a publication of the same size has since been known to yield. 
I have mentioned upon Johnson's own authority, that for 
his London he had only ten guineas; and now, after his 

33 



34 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1749 

fame was established, he got for his Vanity of Human Wishes 
but five guineas more, as is proved by an authentic docu- 
ment in my possession. 

Garrick being now vested with theatrical power by being 
manager of Drury-lane theatre, he kindly and generously 
made use of it to bring out Johnson's tragedy, which had been 
long kept back for want of encouragement. But in this 
benevolent purpose he met with no small difficulty from the 
temper of Johnson, which could not brook that a drama 
which he had formed with much study, and had been obliged 
to keep more than the nine years of Horace, should be re- 
vised and altered at the pleasure of an actor. Yet Garrick 
knew well, that without some alterations it would not be 
fit for the stage. A violent dispute having ensued between 
them, Garrick applied to the Reverend Dr. Taylor to inter- 
pose. Johnson was at first very obstinate. "Sir, (said he) 
the fellow wants me to make Mohamet run mad, that he 
may have an opportunity of tossing his hands and kicking 
his heels. " He was, however, at last, with difficulty, pre- 
vailed on to comply with Garrick's wishes, so as to allow of 
some changes; but still there were not enough. 

Dr. Adams was present the first night of the representation 
of Irene, and gave me the following account: " Before the cur- 
tain drew up, there were catcalls whistling, which alarmed 
Johnson's friends. The Prologue, which was written by 
himself in a manly strain, soothed the audience, and the play 
went off tolerably, till it came to the conclusion, when Mrs. 
Pritchard, the heroine of the piece, was to be strangled upon 
the stage, and was to speak two lines, with the bow-string 
round her neck. The audience cried out 'Murder! Murder!' 
She several times attempted to speak, but in vain. At last 
she was obliged to go off the stage alive." This passage was 
afterwards struck out, and she was carried off to be put to 
death behind the scenes, as the play now has it. 

Notwithstanding all the support of such performers as 
Garrick, Barry, Mrs. Gibber, Mrs. Pritchard, and every ad- 
vantage of dress and decoration, the tragedy of Irene did not 
please the public. Mr. Garrick's zeal carried it through for 



Age 40-41] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 35 

nine nights, so that the author had his three nights' profits; 
and from a receipt signed by him, now in the hands of 
Mr. James Dodsley, it appears that his friend, Mr. Robert 
Dodsley, gave him one hundred pounds for the copy, with 
his usual reservation of the right of one edition. 

On occasion of this play being brought upon the stage, 
Johnson had a fancy that as a dramatic author his dress 
should be more gay than what he ordinarily wore; he there- 
fore appeared behind the scenes, and even in one of the side 
boxes, in a scarlet waistcoat, with rich gold lace, and a gold- 
laced hat. He humorously observed to Mr. Langton, "that 
when in that dress he could not treat people with the same 
ease as when in his usual plain clothes." Dress indeed, we 
must allow, has more effect even upon strong minds than one 
should suppose, without having had the experience of it. 
His necessary attendance while his play was in rehearsal, 
and during its performance, brought him acquainted with 
many of the performers of both sexes, which produced a more 
favorable opinion of their profession than he had harshly 
expressed in his Life of Savage. With some of them he kept 
up an acquaintance as long as he and they lived, and was 
ever ready to show them acts of kindness. He for a con- 
siderable time used to frequent the Green-room, and seemed 
to take delight in dissipating his gloom, by mixing in the 
sprightly chit-chat of the motley circle then to be found there. 

In 1750 he came forth in the character for which he was 
eminently qualified, a majestic teacher of moral and religious 
wisdom. The vehicle which he chose was that of a period- 
ical paper, which he knew had been, upon former occasions, 
employed with great success. The Tatler, Spectator, and 
Guardian were the last of the kind published in England, 
which had stood the test of a long trial; and such an interval 
had now elapsed since their publication, as made him justly 
think that, to many of his readers, this form of instruction 
would, in some degree, have the advantage of novelty. 

The first paper of the Rambler was published on Tuesday 
the 20th of March, 1750; and its author was able to continue 
it, without interruption, every Tuesday and Saturday, till 



36 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1750 

Saturday the 17th of March, 1752, on which day it closed. 
This is a strong confirmation of the truth of a remark of his, 
which I have had occasion to quote elsewhere, that u a man 
may write at any time, if he will set himself doggedly to it;" 
for, notwithstanding his constitutional indolence, his de- 
pression of spirits, and his labor in carrying on his Dictionary, 
he answered the stated calls of the press twice a week from 
the stores of his mind, during all that time; having received 
no assistance, except four billets in No. 10, by Miss Mulso, 
now Mrs. Chapone; No. 30, by Mrs. Catharine Talbot; 
No. 97, by Mr. Samuel Richardson, whom he describes in an 
introductory note as "An author who has enlarged the 
knowledge of human nature, and taught the passions to 
move at the command of virtue; " and Numbers 44 and 100, 
by Mrs. Elizabeth Carter. 

Posterity will be astonished when they are told, upon the 
authority of Johnson himself, that many of these discourses, 
which we should suppose had been labored with all the slow 
attention of literary leisure, were written in haste as the 
moment pressed, without even being read over by him before 
they were printed. It can be accounted for only in this way; 
that by reading and meditation, and a very close inspection 
of life, he had accumulated a great fund of miscellaneous 
knowledge, which, by a peculiar promptitude of mind, was 
ever ready at his call, and which he had constantly accus- 
tomed himself to clothe in the most apt and energetic ex- 
pression. Sir Joshua Reynolds once asked him by what 
means he had attained his extraordinary accuracy and flow 
of language. He told him, that he had early laid it down as 
a fixed rule to do his best on every occasion, and in every 
company; to impart whatever he knew in the most forcible 
language he could put it in; and that by constant practice, 
and never suffering any careless expression to escape him, 
or attempting to deliver his thoughts without arranging them 
in the clearest manner, it became habitual to him. 

Johnson told me, with an amiable fondness, a little pleasing 
circumstance relative to this work. Mrs. Johnson, in whose 
judgment and taste he had great confidence, said to him, 



Age 41] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON" 37 

after a few numbers of the Rambler had come out, "I thought 
very well of you before; but I did not imagine you could 
have written any thing equal to this." Distant praise, from 
whatever quarter, is not so delightful as that of a wife whom 
a man loves and esteems. Her approbation may be said 
to "come home to his bosom;' 1 and being so near, its effect 
is most sensible and permanent. 

The Rambler has increased in fame as in age. Soon after 
its first folio edition was concluded, it was published in six 
duodecimo volumes; and its author lived to see ten numer- 
ous editions of it in London, beside those of Ireland and 
Scotland. 

The style of this work has been censured by some shallow 
critics- as involved and turgid, and abounding with anti- 
quated and hard words. So ill-founded is the first part of 
this objection, that I will challenge all who may honor this 
book with a perusal, to point out any English writer whose 
language conveys his meaning with equal force and per- 
spicuity. It must, indeed, be allowed, that the structure 
of his sentences is expanded, and often has somewhat of the 
inversion of Latin; and that he delighted to express familiar 
thoughts in philosophical language; being in this the reverse 
of Socrates, who, it is said, reduced philosophy to the sim- 
plicity of common life. But let us attend to what he himself 
says in his concluding paper: "When common words were 
less pleasing to the ear, or less distinct in their signification, 
I have familiarized the terms of philosophy, . by applying 
them to popular ideas." And, as to the second part of this 
objection, upon a late careful revision of the work, I can 
with confidence say, that it is amazing how few of those 
words, for which it has been unjustly characterized, are 
actually to be found in it; I am sure, not the proportion of 
one to each paper. This idle charge has been echoed from 
one babbler to another, who have confounded Johnson's 
Essays with Johnson's Dictionary; and because he thought 
it right in a Lexicon of our language to collect many words 
which had fallen into disuse, but were supported by great 
authorities, it has been imagined that all of these have been 



38 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1750-51 

interwoven into his own compositions. That some of them 
have been adopted by him unnecessarily, may, perhaps, be 
allowed; but, in general they are evidently an advantage, 
for without them his stately ideas would be confined and 
cramped. "He that thinks with more extent than another 
will want words of larger meaning." 1 

It has of late been the fashion to compare the style of 
Addison and Johnson, and to depreciate, I think, very un- 
justly, the style of Addison as nerveless and feeble, because 
it has not the strength and energy of that of Johnson. Their 
prose may be balanced like the poetry of Dryden and Pope. 
Both are excellent, though in different ways. Addison 
writes with the ease of a gentleman. His readers fancy that 
a wise and accomplished companion is talking to them; so 
that he insinuates his sentiments and taste into their minds 
by an imperceptible influence. Johnson writes like a teacher. 
He dictates to his readers as if from an academical chair. 
They attend with awe and admiration; and his precepts are 
impressed upon them by his commanding eloquence. Ad- 
dison's style, like a light wine, pleases everybody from the 
first. Johnson's, like a liquor of more body, seems too 
strong at first, but, by degrees, is highly relished; and such 
is the melody of his periods, so much do they captivate the 
ear, and seize upon the attention, that there is scarcely any 
writer, however inconsiderable, who does not aim, in some 
degree, at the same species of excellence. But let us not 
ungratefully undervalue that beautiful style, which has 
pleasingly conveyed to us much instruction and entertain- 
ment. Though comparatively weak, opposed to Johnson's 
Herculean vigor, let us not call it positively feeble. Let us 
remember the character of his style, as given by Johnson 
himself: "What he attempted he performed: he is never 
feeble, and he did not wish to be energetic; he is never rapid 
and he never stagnates. His sentences have neither studied 
amplitude, nor affected brevity: his periods, though not 
diligently rounded, are voluble and easy. Whoever wishes 
to attain an English style, familiar but not coarse, and elegant 
i Idler, No. 70. 



Age 43] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 39 

but not ostentatious, must give his days and nights to the 
volumes of Addison." 

That there should be a suspension of his literary labors 
during a part of the year 1752, will not seen strange, when it 
is considered that soon after closing the Rambler, he suffered 
a loss which, there can be no doubt, affected him with the 
deepest distress. For on the 17th of March, 0. S., his wife 
died. Why Sir John Hawkins should unwarrantably take 
upon him even to suppose that Johnson's fondness for her 
was dissembled (meaning simulated or assumed), and to 
assert, that if it was not the case, "it was a lesson he had 
learned by rote," I cannot conceive; unless it proceeded from 
a want of similar feelings in his own breast. To argue from 
her being much older than Johnson, or any other circum- 
stances, that he really could not love her, is absurd; for 
love is not a subject of reasoning, but of feeling, and therefore 
there are no common principles upon which one can persuade 
another concerning it. Every man feels for himself, and 
knows how he is affected by particular qualities in the person 
he admires, the impressions of which are too minute and 
delicate to be substantiated in language. 

The following very solemn and affecting prayer was found 
after Dr. Johnson's decease, by his servant, Mr. Francis 
Barber, who delivered it to my worthy friend the Reverend 
Mr. Strahan, Vicar of Islington, who at my earnest request 
has obligingly favored me with a copy of it, which he and I 
compared with the original. I present it to the world as an 
undoubted proof of a circumstance in the character of my 
illustrious friend, which, though some whose hard minds I 
never shall envy, may attack as superstitious, will I am sure 
endear him more to numbers of good men. I have an addi- 
tional, and that a personal motive for presenting it, because 
it sanctions what I myself have always maintained and am 
fond to indulge: 

"April 26, 1752, being after 12 
at Night of the 25th. 

"0 Lord! Governor of heaven and earth, in whose hands 
are embodied and departed Spirits, if thou hast ordained the 



40 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1752 

Souls of the Dead to minister to the Living, and appointed 
my departed Wife to have care of me, grant that I may enjoy 
the good effects of her attention and ministration, whether 
exercised by appearance, impulses, dreams, or in any other 
manner agreeable to thy Government. Forgive my presump- 
tion, enlighten my ignorance, and however meaner agents 
are employed, grant me the blessed influences of thy holy 
Spirit, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." 

The circle of his friends, indeed, at this time was extensive 
and various, far beyond what has been generally imagined. 
To trace his acquaintance with each particular person, if it 
could be done, would be a task, of which the labor would not 
be repaid by the advantage. But exceptions are to be 
made; one of which must be a friend so eminent as Sir Joshua 
Reynolds, who was truly his dulce decus, 1 and with whom he 
maintained an uninterrupted intimacy to the last hour of 
his life. When Johnson lived in Castle-street, Cavendish- 
square, he used frequently to visit two ladies who lived op- 
posite to him, Miss Cotterells, daughters of Admiral Cotterell. 
Reynolds used also to visit there, and thus they met. Mr. 
Reynolds, as I have observed above, had, from the first 
reading of his Life of Savage, conceived a very high admira- 
tion of Johnson's powers of writing. His conversation no 
less delighted him; and he cultivated his acquaintance 
with the laudable zeal of one who was ambitious of general 
improvement. Sir Johsua, indeed, was lucky enough at 
their very first meeting to make a remark, which was so 
much above the commonplace style of conversation, that 
Johnson at once perceived that Reynolds had the habit of 
thinking for himself. The ladies were regretting the death 
of a friend, to whom they owed great obligations; upon 
which Reynolds observed, "You have, however, the comfort 
of being relieved from a burden of gratitude." They were 
shocked a little at this alleviating suggestion, as too selfish; 
but Johnson defended it in his clear and forcible manner, 
and was much pleased with the mind, the fair view of human 
nature, which is exhibited, like some of the reflections of 
1 Pleasant adornment. 






Age 43] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 41 

Rochefoucault. The consequence was, that he went home 
with Re3^nolds, and supped with him. 

His acquaintance with Bennet Langton, Esq. of Langton, 
in Lincolnshire, another much valued friend, commenced 
soon after the conclusion of his Rambler; which that gen- 
tleman, then a youth, had read with so much admiration, 
that he came to London chiefly with a view of endeavoring 
to be introduced to its author. By a fortunate chance he 
happened to take lodgings in a house where Air. Levett fre- 
quently visited; and having mentioned his wish to his land- 
lady, she introduced him to Air. Levett, who readily obtained 
Johnson's permission to bring Mr. Langton to him; as, 
indeed, Johnson, during the whole course of his life, had no 
shyness, real or affected, but was easy of access to all who were 
properly recommended, and even wished to see numbers at 
his levee, as his morning circle of company might, with strict 
propriety, be called. Air. Langton was exceedingly sur- 
prised when the sage first appeared. He had not received 
the smallest intimation of his figure, dress, or manner. From 
perusing his writings, he fancied he should see a decent, well- 
drest, in short, a remarkably decorous philosopher. Instead 
of which, down from his bed-chamber, about noon, came, as 
newly risen, a huge, uncouth figure, with a little dark wig 
which scarcely covered his head, and his clothes hanging 
loose about him. But his conversation was so rich, so ani- 
mated, and so forcible, and his religious and political notions 
so congenial with those in which Langton had been educated, 
that he conceived for him that veneration and attachment 
which he ever preserved. Johnson was not the less ready 
to love Mr. Langton, for his being of a very ancient family; 
for I have heard him say, with pleasure, " Langton, Sir, has 
a grant of free warren from Herny the Second; and Cardinal 
Stephen Langton, in King John's reign, was of this family.'' 

Air. Langton afterwards went to pursue his studies at 
Trinity College, Oxford, where he formed an acquaintance 
with his fellow-student, Air. Topham Beauclerk ; who, though 
their opinions and modes of life were so different, that it 
seemed utterly improbable that they should at all agree, 



42 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1752-53 

had so ardent a love of literature, so acute an understanding, 
such elegance of manners, and so well discerned the excel- 
lent qualities of Mr. Langton, a gentleman eminent not 
only for worth and learning, but for an inexhaustible fund 
of entertaining conversation, that they became intimate 
friends. 

One night, when Beauclerk and Langton had supped at a 
tavern in London, and sat till about three in the morning, 
it came into their heads to go and knock up Johnson, and see 
if they could prevail on him to join them in a ramble. They 
rapped violently at the door of his chambers in the Temple, 
till at last he appeared in his shirt, with his little black wig 
on the top of his head, instead of a night-cap, and a poker 
in his hand, imagining, probably, that some ruffians were 
coming to attack him. When he discovered who they were, 
and was told their errand, he smiled, and with great good 
humor agreed to their proposal: "What, is it you, you dogs! 
I '11 have a frisk with you." He was soon dressed, and they 
sallied forth together into Covent-Garden, where the green- 
grocers and fruiterers were beginning to arrange their hampers 
just come in from the country. Johnson made some attempts 
to help them; but the honest gardeners stared so hard at 
his figure and manner, and odd interference, that he soon 
saw his services were not relished. They then repaired to 
one of the neighboring taverns, and made a bowl of that 
liquor called Bishop, which Johnson had always liked: while 
in joyous contempt of sleep, from which he had been roused, 
he repeated the festive lines, 

"Short, O short then be thy reign, 
And give us to the world again! " 

They did not stay long, but walked down to the Thames, 
took a boat, and rowed to Billingsgate. Beauclerk and 
Johnson were so well pleased with their amusement, that 
they resolved to persevere in dissipation for the rest of the 
day: but Langton deserted them, being engaged to break- 
fast with some young ladies. Johnson scolded him for 
"leaving his social friends to go and sit with a set of wretched 



Age 45] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 43 

un-idea'd girls. " Garrick being told of this ramble, said to 
him smartly, "I heard of your frolic t'other night. You'll 
be in the Chronicle." Upon which Johnson afterwards 
observed, "He durst not do such a thing. His wife would 
not let him!" 

The Dictionary, we may believe, afforded Johnson full 
occupation this year. As it approached to its conclusion, 
he probably worked with redoubled vigor, as seamen increase 
their exertion and alacrity when they have a near prospect 
of their haven. 

Lord Chesterfield, to whom Johnson had paid the high 
compliment of addressing to his Lordship the Plan of the 
Dictionary, had behaved to him in such a manner as to excite 
his contempt and indignation. The world has been for many 
years amused with a story confidently told, and as confidently 
repeated with additional circumstances, that a sudden dis- 
gust was taken by Johnson upon occasion of his having been 
one day kept long in waiting in his Lordship's antechamber, 
for which the reason assigned was, that he had company 
with him; and that at last, when the door opened, out walked 
Colley Cibber; and that Johnson was so violently provoked 
when he found for whom he had been so long excluded, that 
he went away in a passion, and never would return. I re- 
member having mentioned this story to George Lord Lyttel- 
ton, who told me, he was very intimate with Lord Chesterfield; 
and holding it as a well-known truth, defended Lord Ches- 
terfield by saying, that "Cibber, who had been introduced 
familiarly by the back-stairs, had probably not been there 
above ten minutes." It may seem strange even to entertain 
a doubt concerning a story so long and so widely current, and 
thus implicitly adopted, if not sanctioned, by the authority 
which I have mentioned; but Johnson himself assured me, 
that there was not the least foundation for it. He told me, 
that there never was any particular incident which produced 
a quarrel between Lord Chesterfield and him; but that his 
Lordship's continued neglect was the reason why he resolved 
to have no connection with him. When the Dictionary 
was on the eve of publication, Lord Chesterfield, who, it is 



44 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1754-55 

said, had flattered himself with expectations that Johnson 
would dedicate the work to him, attempted, in a courtly 
manner, to soothe and insinuate himself with the Sage, con- 
scious, as it should seem, of the cold indifference with which 
he had treated its learned author; and further attempted to 
conciliate him, by writing two papers in The World, in recom- 
mendation of the work; and it must be confessed, that they 
contain some studied compliments, so finely turned, that if 
there had been no previous offence, it is probable that Johnson 
would have been highly delighted. Praise, in general, was 
pleasing to him; but by praise from a man of rank and ele- 
gant accomplishments, he was peculiarly gratified. 

This courtly device failed of its effect. Johnson, who 
thought that "all was false and hollow/' despised the honeyed 
words, and was even indignant that Lord Chesterfield should, 
for a moment, imagine, that he could be the dupe of such an 
artifice. His expression to me concerning Lord Chesterfield, 
upon this occasion, was, "Sir, after making great professions, 
he had, for many years, taken no notice of me; but when my 
Dictionary was coming out, he fell a scribbling in The World 
about it. Upon which, I wrote him a letter expressed in 
civil terms, but such as might show him that I did not mind 
what he said or wrote, and that I had done with him." 

This is that celebrated letter of which so much has been 
said, and about which curiosity has been so long excited, 
without being gratified. I for many years solicited Johnson 
to favor me with a copy of it, that so excellent a composition 
might not be lost to posterity. He delayed from time to 
time to give it me; till at last in 1781, when we were on a 
visit at Mr. Dilly's, at Southhill, in Bedfordshire, he was 
pleased to dictate it to me from memory. He afterwards 
found among his papers a copy of it, which he had dictated 
to Mr. Baretti, with its title and corrections, in his own 
hand- writing. This he gave to Mr. Langton; adding that if 
it were to come into print, he wished it to be from that copy. 
By Mr. Langton's kindness, I am enabled to enrich my work 
with a perfect transcript of what the world has so eagerly 
desired to see. 



Age 46] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 45 

11 To The Right Honorable The Earl of Chesterfield. 
"My Lord, February 7, 1755. 

"I have been lately informed, by the proprietor of the 
World, that two papers, in which my Dictionary is recom- 
mended to the public, were written by your Lordship. To 
be so distinguished, is an honor, which, being very little 
accustomed to favors from the great, I know not well how 
to receive, or in what terms to acknowledge. 

"When, upon some slight encouragement, I first visited 
your Lordship, I was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, 
by the enchantment of your address, and could not forbear 
to wish that I might boast myself Le vainquear du vainqueur 
de la terre; 1 — that I might obtain that regard for which I 
saw the world contending; but I found my attendance so 
little encouraged, that neither pride nor modesty would 
suffer me to continue it. When I had once addressed your 
Lordship in public, I had exhausted all the art of pleasing 
which a retired and uncourtly scholar can possess. I had 
done all that I could; and no man is well pleased to have 
his all neglected, be it ever so little. 

" Seven years, my Lord, have now passed, since I waited 
in your outward rooms, or was repulsed from your door; 
during which time I have been pushing on my work through 
difficulties, of which it is useless to complain, and have 
brought it, at last, to the verge of publication, without one 
act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile 
of favor. Such treatment I did not expect, for I never had 
a Patron before. 

"The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with 
Love, and found him a native of the rocks. 

"Is not a Patron, my Lord, one who looks with unconcern 
on a man struggling for life in the water, and, when he has 
reached ground, encumbers him with help? The notice 
with which you have been pleased to take of my labors, 
had it been early, had been kind; but it has been delayed 
till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it; till I am solitary, 
and cannot impart it; till I am known, and do not want it. 
1 The conqueror of the earth's conqueror. 



46 LIFE OF DK. JOHNSON [1755 

I hope it is no very cynical asperity, not to confess obliga- 
tions where no benefit has been received, or to be unwilling 
that the Public should consider me as owing that to a Patron, 
which Providence has enabled me to do for myself. 

" Having carried on my work thus far with so little obli- 
gation to any favorer of learning, I shall not be disappointed 
though I should conclude it, if less be possible, with less; 
for I have been long wakened from that dream of hope, in 
which I once boasted myself with so much exultation, 

" My Lord, 
"Your Lordship's most humble, 
"Most obedient servant, 
"Sam. Johnson/' 

"While this was the talk of the town, (says Dr. Adams, in 
a letter to me) I happened to visit Dr. Warburton, who 
finding that I was acquainted with Johnson, desired me 
earnestly to carry his compliments to him, and to tell him, 
that he honored him for his manly behavior in rejecting these 
condescensions of Lord Chesterfield, and for resenting the 
treatment he had received from him with a proper spirit. 
Johnson was visibly pleased with this compliment, for he 
had always a high opinion of Warburton. Indeed, the force 
of mind which appeared in this letter, was congenial with 
that which Warburton himself amply possessed." 

Johnson having now explicitly avowed his opinion of Lord 
Chesterfield, did not refrain from expressing himself concern- 
ing that nobleman with pointed freedom: "This man (said 
he) I thought had been a Lord among wits; but, I find, he 
is only a wit among Lords!" 

Mr. Andrew Millar, bookseller in the Strand, took the 
principal charge of conducting the publication of Johnson's 
Dictionary; and as the patience of the proprietors was re- 
peatedly tried and almost exhausted, by their expecting 
that the work would be completed, within the time which 
Johnson had sanguinely supposed, the learned author was 
often goaded to dispatch, more especially as he had received 
all the copy money, by different drafts, a considerable time 
before he had finished his task. When the messenger who 



Age 46] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 47 

carried the last sheet to Millar returned, Johnson asked him, 
"Well, what did he say?" — "Sir, (answered the messenger) 
he said, thank God I have done with him." "I am glad 
(replied Johnson, with a smile), that he thanks God for any- 
thing." It is remarkable, that those with whom Johnson 
chiefly contracted for his literary labors were Scotchmen, 
Mr. Millar and Mr. Strahan. Millar, though himself no 
great judge of literature, had good sense enough to have for 
his friends very able men, to give him their opinion and advice 
in the purchase of copyright; the consequence of which was 
his acquiring a very large fortune, with great liberality. 
Johnson said of him, "I respect Millar, Sir; he has raised 
the price of literature." The same praise may be justly given 
to Panckoucke, the eminent bookseller of Paris. Mr. 
Strahan's liberality, judgment, and success are well known. 
The Dictionary, with a Grammar and History of the English 
Language, being now at length published, in two volumes 
folio, the world contemplated with wonder so stupendous 
a work achieved by one man, while other countries had 
thought such undertakings fit only for whole academies. 
Vast as his powers were, I cannot but think that his imagi- 
nation deceived him, when he supposed that by constant 
application he might have performed the task in three years. 
Let the Preface be attentively perused, in which is given, 
in a clear, strong, and glowing style, a comprehensive, yet 
particular view of what he had done; and it will be evident, 
that the time he employed upon it was comparatively short. 
I am unwilling to swell my book with long quotations from 
w T hat is in everybody's hands, and I believe there are few 
prose compositions in the English language that are read 
with more delight, or are more impressed upon the memory, 
than that preliminary discourse. Qne of its excellencies 
has always struck me with peculiar admiration; I mean the 
perspicuity with which he has expressed abstract scientific 
notions. As an instance of this, I shall quote the following 
sentence: "When the radical idea branches out into parallel 
ramifications how can a consecutive series be formed of 
senses in their own nature collateral?" We have here an 



48 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1755 

example of what has been often said, and I believe with jus- 
tice, that there is for every thought a certain nice adaptation 
of words which none other could equal, and which, when a 
man has been so fortunate as to hit, he has attained, in that 
particular case, the perfection of language. 

A few of his definitions must be admitted to be erroneous. 
Thus, Windward and Leeward, though directly of opposite 
meaning, are defined identically the same way; as to which 
inconsiderable specks it is enough to observe, that his Preface 
announces that he was aware there might be many such in 
• so immense a work; nor was he at all disconcerted when an 
instance was pointed out to him. A lady once asked him 
how he came to define Pastern the knee of a horse: instead 
of making an elaborate defence, as she expected, he at once 
answered, " Ignorance, Madam, pure ignorance." His defi- 
nition of Network has been often quoted with sportive malig- 
nity, as obscuring a thing in itself very plain. But to these 
frivolous censures no other answer is necessary than that 
with which we are furnished by his own Preface. "To ex- 
plain, requires the use of terms less abstruse than that which 
is to be explained, and such terms cannot always be found. 
For as nothing can be proved but by supposing something 
intuitively known, and evident without proof, so nothing 
can be defined but by the use of words too plain to admit 
of definition. Sometimes easier words are changed into 
harder; as burial into sepulture or interment; dry, into desic- 
cative; dryness, into siccity or aridity; fit, into paroxysm; 
for the easiest word, whatever it be, can never be translated 
into one more easy." 

His introducing his own opinions, and even prejudices, 
under general definitions of words, while at the same time 
the original meaning of the words is not explained, as his 
Tory, Whig, Pension, Oats, Excise, and a few more, cannot 
be fully defended, and must be placed to the account of 
capricious and humorous indulgence. Talking to me upon 
this subject when we were at Ashbourne in 1777, he men- 
tioned a still stronger instance of the predominance of his 
private feelings in the composition of this work, than any 



Age 46-47] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 49 

now to be found in it. " You know, Sir, Lord Gower forsook 
the old Jacobite interest. When I came to the word Renegado, 
after telling that it meant 'one who deserts to the enemy, 
a revolter/ I added, Sometimes we say a Gower. Thus 
it went to the press: but the printer had more wit than I, 
and struck it out." 

Let it, however, be remembered, that this indulgence 
does not display itself only in sarcasm towards others, but 
sometimes in playful allusion to the notions commonly en- 
tertained of his own laborious task. Thus: "Grub-street, 
the name of a street in London, much inhabited by writers 
of small histories, dictionaries, and temporary poems; whence 
any mean production is called Grub-street." — "Lexicog- 
rapher, a writer of dictionaries, a harmless drudge" 

He had spent, during the progress of the work, the money 
for which he had contracted to write his Dictionary. We 
have seen that the reward of his labor was only fifteen hun- 
dred and seventy-five pounds; and when the expense of 
amanuenses and paper, and other articles, are deducted, 
his clear profit was very inconsiderable. I once said to him, 
"I am sorry, Sir, you did not get more for your Dictionary" 
His answer was, "I am sorry, too. But it was very well. 
The booksellers are generous, liberal-minded men." He, 
upon all occasions, did ample justice to their character in 
this respect. He considered them as the patrons of litera- 
ture; and, indeed, although they have eventually been 
considerable gainers by his Dictionary, it is to them that we 
owe its having been undertaken and carried through at the 
risk of great expense, for they were not absolutely sure of 
being indemnified. 

He engaged also to superintend and contribute largely 
to another monthly publication entitled The Literary Maga- 
zine, or Universal Review; the first number of which came 
out in May this year. What were his emoluments from this 
undertaking, and what other writers were employed in it, I 
have not discovered. He continued to write in it, with 
intermissions, till the fifteenth number; and I think that 
he never gave better proofs of the force, acuteness, and 



50 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1756 

vivacity of his mind, than in this miscellany, whether we 
consider his original essays, or his reviews of the works of 
others. The " Preliminary Address " to the public, is a 
proof how this great man could embellish, with the graces 
of superior composition, even so trite a thing as the plan of a 
magazine. 

His original essays are, An Introduction to the Political 
State of Great Britain; Remarks on the Militia Bill; Obser- 
vations on his Britannic Majesty's Treaties with the Empress 
of Russia and the Landgrave of Hesse Cassel; Observations 
on the Present State of Affairs; and Memoirs of Frederick 
III, King of Prussia. In all these he displays extensive 
political knowledge and sagacity, expressed with uncommon 
energy and perspicuity, without any of those words which he 
sometimes took a pleasure in adopting, in imitation of Sir 
Thomas Browne; of whose Christian Morals he this year 
gave an edition, with his "Life" prefixed to it, which is one 
of Johnson's best biographical performances. 

His reviews are of the following books: Birch's History 
of the Royal Society; Murphy's Gray's Inn Journal; Warton's 
Essay on the Writings and Genius of Pope, Vol. I. Hampton's 
Translation of Polybius; Black well's Memoirs of the Court 
of Augustus; Russel's Natural History of Aleppo; Sir Isaac 
Newton's Arguments in Proof of a Deity; Borlase's History 
of the Isles of Scilly; Holme's Experiments on Bleaching; 
Browne's Christian Morals; Hale's On Distilling Sea-water, 
Ventilators in Ships, and Curing an III Taste in Milk; Lucas's 
Essays on Waters; Keith's Catalogue of the Scottish Bishops; 
Browne's History of Jamaica; Philosophical Transactions, 
Vol. XLIX; Mrs. Lennox's Translation of Sully's Memoirs;* 
Miscellanies by Elizabeth Harrison; Letter on the Case of 
Admiral Byng; * Appeal to the People concerning Admiral 
Byng; * Hanway's Eight Days' Journey, and Essay on Tea; 
Evans' Map and Account of the Middle Colonies in America; 
The Cadet, a Military Treatise; Some further Particulars 
in Relation to the Case of Admiral Byng, by a Gentleman of 
Oxford; * The Conduct of the Ministry relating to the present 
War impartially examined; A Free Inquiry into the Nature 



Age 47-48] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 51 

and Origin of Evil* All these, from internal evidence, were 
written by Johnson: some of them I know he avowed, and 
have marked them with an asterisk accordingly. 

Johnson's most exquisite critical essay in the Literary 
Magazine, and indeed anywhere, is his review of Soame 
Jenyns's Inquiry into the Origin of Evil. Jenyns was pos- 
sessed of lively talents, and a style eminently pure and easy, 
and could very happily play with a light subject, either in 
prose or verse; but when he speculated on that most difficult 
and excruciating question, the origin of Evil, he "ven- 
tured far beyond his depth/ ' and accordingly, was exposed 
by Johnson, both with acute argument and brilliant wit. I 
remember when the late Mr. BicknelTs humorous perform- 
ance, entitled The Musical Travels of Joel Collyer, in which a 
slight attempt is made to ridicule Johnson, was ascribed to 
Soame Jenyns, "Ha! (said Johnson) I thought I had given 
him enough of it." 

He this year resumed his scheme of giving an edition of 
Shakespeare with notes. He issued proposals of considerable 
length, in which he showed that he perfectly well knew what 
variety of research such an undertaking required; but his 
indolence prevented him from pursuing it with that diligence 
which alone can collect those scattered facts, that genius, 
however acute, penetrating, and luminous, cannot discover 
by its own force. It is remarkable, that at this time his 
fancied activity was for the moment so vigorous, that he 
promised his work should be published before Christmas, 
1757. Yet nine years elapsed before it saw the light. 



CHAPTER IV (1758-1762) 
The Pensioning of Johnson 

Publication of The Idler — Death of Johnson's Mother — John- 
son's Letters on This Subject — The Writing of Rasselas — The 
Excursion to Oxford — Johnson's Negro Servant, Francis Barber — 
The Accession of George III — Granting of a Pension to Johnson — 
A Defense of Johnson's Acceptance. 

On the fifteenth of April (1758) he began a new periodical 
paper entitled The Idler, which came out every Saturday in a 
weekly newspaper, called the Universal Chronicle, or Weekly 
Gazette, published by Newbery. These essays were con- 
tinued till April 5, 1760. Of one hundred and three, their 
total number, twelve were contributed by his friends; of 
which, Numbers 33, 93, and 96, were written by Mr. Thomas 
Warton; No. 67 by Mr. Langton; and Nos. 76, 79, and 82, 
by Sir Joshua Reynolds; the concluding words of No. 82, 
"and pollute his canvas with deformity/' being added by 
Johnson; as Sir Joshua informed me. 

The Idler is evidently the work of the same mind which 
produced the Rambler, but has less body and more spirit, it 
has more variety of real life, and greater facility of language. 
He describes the miseries of idleness, with the lively sensa- 
tions of one who has felt them; and in his private memoran- 
dums while engaged in it, we find "This year I hope to learn 
diligence." Many of these excellent essays were written as 
hastily as an ordinary letter. Mr. Langton remembers 
Johnson, when on a visit at Oxford, asking him one evening 
how long it was till the post went out; and on being told about 
half an hour, he exclaimed, "Then we shall do very well." 
He upon this instantly sat down and finished an Idler, which 
it was necessary should be in London the next day. Mr. 
Langton having signified a wish to read it, "Sir, (said he,) 
you shall not do more than I have done myself." He then 
folded it up, and sent it off. 

52 



Age 50] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 53 

In 1759, in the month of January, his mother died at the 
great age of ninety, an event which deeply affected him; not 
that "his mind had acquired no firmness by the contempla- 
tion of mortality;" but that his reverential affection for her 
was not abated by years, as indeed he retained all his tender 
feelings even to the latest period of his life. I have been told, 
that he regretted much his not having gone to visit his mother 
for several years previous to her death. But he was con- 
stantly engaged in literary labors which confined him to 
London and though he had not the comfort of seeing his aged 
parent he contributed to her support. 

" To Mrs. Johnson, in Lichfield, 
"Honored Madam, 

"The account which Miss (Porter) gives me of your health, 
pierces my heart. God comfort, and preserve you, and save 
you, for the sake of Jesus Christ. 

"I would have Miss read to you from time to time the 
Passion of our Saviour, and sometimes the sentences in the 
Communion Service, beginning — Come unto me all ye that 
travail and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 

"I have just now read a physical book, which inclines me 
to think that a strong infusion of the bark would do you good. 
Do, dear mother, try it. 

"Pray, send me your blessing, and forgive all that I have 
done amiss to you. And whatever you would have done, 
and what debts you would have paid first, or any thing else 
that you would direct, let Miss put it down; I shall endeavor 
to obey 3^ou. 

"I have got twelve guineas to send you, but unhappily am 
at a loss how to send it to-night. If I cannot send it to-night, 
it will come by the next post. 

"Pray, do not omit anything mentioned in this letter. 
God bless you for ever and ever. 

"I am, 

"Your dutiful Son, 

"Jan. 13, 1759." "Sam. Johnson." 



54 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1759 

" To Miss Porter, At Mrs. Johnson's, in Lichfield. 
"My Dear Miss, 

"I think myself obliged to you beyond all expression of 
gratitude for your care of my dear mother. God grant it may 
not be without success. Tell Kitty, that I shall never forget 
her tenderness for her mistress. Whatever you can do, con- 
tinue to do. My heart is very full. 

"I hope you received twelve guineas on Monday. I found 
a way of sending them by means of the Postmaster, after I 
had written my letter, and hope they came safe. I will send 
you more in a few days. God bless you all. 
"I am, my dear, 
"Your most obliged 

"and most humble servant, 
"Jan. 16, 1759." "Sam. Johnson." 



"Over the leaf is a letter to my mother." 
"Dear Honored Mother, 

"Your weakness afflicts me beyond what I am willing to 
communicate to you. I do not think you unfit to face death, 
but I know not how to bear the thought of losing you. En- 
deavor to do all you can for yourself. Eat as much as you 
can. 

"I pray often for you; do you pray for me. — I have 
nothing to add to my last letter. 

"I am, dear, dear Mother, 
"Your dutiful Son, 
"Jan. 16, 1759." "Sam. Johnson." 



" To Mrs. Johnson, in Lichfield. 
"Dear Honored Mother, 

"I fear you are too ill for long letters; therefore I will only 
tell you, you have from me all the regard that can possibly 
subsist in the heart. I pray God to bless you for evermore 
for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen. 



Age 50] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 55 

"Let Miss write to me every post, however short. 
"I am, dear Mother, 
"Your dutiful Son, 
"Jan. 18, 1759." "Sam. Johnson." 

"To Miss Porter, at Mrs. Johnson's in Lichfield. 
" Dear Miss, 

"I will, if it be possible, come down to you. God grant I 
may yet find my dear mother breathing and sensible. Do 
not tell her, lest I disappoint her. If I miss to write next post, 

I am on the road. 

"I am, my dearest Miss, 
"Your most humble servant, 
"Jan. 20, 1759." "Sam. Johnson." 

"On the other side." 
"Dear Honored Mother, 

"Neither your condition nor your character make it fit for 
me to say much. You have been the best mother, and I be- 
lieve the best woman in the w^orld. I thank you for your 
indulgence to me, and beg forgiveness of all that I have done 
ill, and all that I have omitted to do well. God grant you 
his Holy Spirit, and receive you to everlasting happiness, for 
Jesus Christ's sake. Amen. Lord Jesus receive your spirit. 
Amen. 

"I am, dear, dear Mother, 
"Your dutiful Son, 

II Jan. 20, 1759." "Sam. Johnson." 

" To Miss Porter, in Lichfield. 
"You will conceive my sorrow for the loss of my mother, 
of the best mother. If she were to live again, surely I should 
behave better to her. But she is happy, and what is past is 
nothing to her; and for me, since I cannot repair my faults to 
her, I hope repentance will efface them. I return you and 
all those that have been good to her my sincerest thanks, and 
pray God to repay you all with infinite advantage. Write 
to me, and comfort me, dear child. I shall be glad likewise, 



56 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON (1759 

if Kitty will write to me. I shall send a bill of twenty pounds 
in a few days, which I thought to have brought to my mother; 
but God suffered it not. I have not power or composure to 
say much more. God bless you, and bless us all. 
"I am, dear Miss, 
"Your affectionate humble Servant, 
"Sam. Johnson." 
"Jan. 23, 1759." 

Soon after this event, he wrote his Rasselas, Prince of 
Abyssinia, concerning the publication of which Sir John 
Hawkins guesses vaguely and idly, instead of having taken 
the trouble to inform himself with authentic precision. Not 
to trouble my readers with a repetition of the Knight's 
reveries, I have to mention, that the late Mr. Strahan the 
printer told me, that Johnson wrote it, that with the profits 
he might defray the expense of his mother's funeral, and pay 
some little debts which she had left. He told Sir Joshua 
Reynolds, that he composed it in the evenings of one week, 
sent it to the press in portions as it was written, and had 
never since read it over. Mr. Strahan, Mr. Johnston, and 
Mr. Dodsley, purchased it for a hundred pounds, but after- 
wards paid him twenty-five pounds more, when it came to a 
second edition. 

Considering the large sums which have been received for 
compilations, and works requiring not much more genius than 
compilations, we cannot but wonder at the very low price 
which he was content to receive for this admirable perform- 
ance; which, though he had written npthing else, would have 
rendered his name immortal in the world of literature. None 
of his writings has been so extensively diffused over Europe; 
for it has been translated into most, if not all, of the modern 
languages. This Tale, with all the charms of oriental 
imagery, and all the force and beauty of which the English 
language is capable, leads us through the most important 
scenes of human life, and shows us that this stage of our being 
is full of "vanity and vexation of spirit." To those who 
look no further than the present life, or who maintain that 






Age 50] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 57 

human nature has not fallen from the state in which it was 
created, the instruction of this sublime story will be of no 
avail. But they who think justly, and feel with strong sensi- 
bility, will listen with eagerness and admiration to its truth 
and wisdom. Voltaire's Candide, written to refute the sys- 
tem of Optimism, which it has accomplished with brilliant 
success, is wonderfully similar in its plan and conduct to 
Johnson's Rasselas; insomuch, that I have heard Johnson 
say, that if they had not been published so closely one after 
the other that there was not time for imitation, it would have 
been in vain to deny that the scheme of that which came 
latest was taken from the other. Though the proposition 
illustrated by both these works was the same, namely, that 
in our present state there is more evil than good, the intention 
of the writers was very different. Voltaire I am afraid, meant 
only by wanton profaneness to obtain a sportive victory over 
religion, and to discredit the belief of a superintending Provi- 
dence : Johnson meant, by showing the unsatisfactory nature 
of things temporal, to direct the hopes of man to things 
eternal. Rasselas, as w 7 as observed to me by a very accom- 
plished lady, may be considered as a more enlarged and more 
deeply philosophical discourse in prose, upon the interesting 
truth, which in his Vanity of Human Wishes he had so suc- 
cessfully enforced in verse. 

The fund of thinking which this work contains is such, that 
almost every sentence of it may furnish a subject of long 
meditation. I am not satisfied if a year passes without my 
having read it through ; and at every persual, my admiration 
of the mind which produced it is so highly raised, that I can 
scarcely believe that I had the honor of enjoying the intimacy 
of such a man. 

He now refreshed himself by an excursion to Oxford, of 
which the following short characteristical notice, in his own 
words, is preserved: ". . . is now making tea for me. 
I have been in my gown ever since I came here. It was, at 
my first coming, quite new and handsome. I have swum 
thrice, which I had disused for many years. I have proposed 
to Vansittart climbing over the wall, but he has refused me, 



58 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1759-60 

and I have clapped my hands till they are sore, at Dr. King's 
speech/' 

His negro servant, Francis Barber, having left him, and 
been some time at sea, not pressed as has been supposed, but 
with his own consent, it appears from a letter to John Wilkes, 
Esq., from Dr. Smollett, that his master kindly interested 
himself in procuring his release from a state of life of which 
Johnson always expressed the utmost abhorrence. He said, 
"No man will be a sailor who has contrivance enough to get 
himself into a jail; for being in a ship is being in a jail, with 
the chance of being drowned." And at another time, "A 
man in a jail has more room, better food, and commonly better 
company." The letter was as follows: 

" Chelsea, March 16, 1759. 
"Dear Sir, 

"I am again your petitioner, in behalf of that great Cham 
of literature, Samuel Johnson. His black servant, whose 
name is Francis Barber, has been pressed on board the Stag 
Frigate, Captain Angel, and our lexicographer is in great dis- 
tress. He says, the boy is a sickly lad, of a delicate frame, 
and particularly subject to a malady in his throat, which 
renders him very unfit for his Majesty's service. You know 
what matter of animosity the said Johnson has against you: 
and I dare say you desire no other opportunity of resenting 
it, than that of laying him under an obligation. He was 
humble enough to desire my assistance on this occasion, 
though he and I were never cater-cousins; and I gave him 
to understand that I would make application to my friend, 
Mr. Wilkes, who, perhaps, by his interest with Dr. Hay and 
Mr. Elliot, might be able to procure the discharge of his 
lacquey. It would be superfluous to say more on the subject, 
which I leave to your own consideration; but I cannot let 
slip this opportunity of declaring that I am, with the most 
inviolable esteem and attachment, dear Sir, 

" Your affectionate obliged humble servant, 
"T. Smollett." 

Mr. Wilkes, who upon all occasions has acted as a private 
gentleman with most polite liberality, applied to his friend Sir 



Age 52] LIFE OF DR. JOHN30N 59 

George Hay, then one of the Lords Commissioners of the 
Admiralty; and Francis Barber was discharged, as he has 
told me, without any wish of his own. He found his old 
master in Chambers in the Inner Temple, and returned to his 
service. 

In 1761 Johnson appears to have done little. He was still, 
no doubt, proceeding in his edition of Shakespeare ; but what 
advances he made in it cannot be ascertained. He certainly 
was at this time not active; for, in his scrupulous examination 
of himself on Easter eve, he laments, in his too rigorous mode 
of censuring his own conduct, that his life, since the com- 
munion of the preceding Easter, had been " dissipated and 
useless." He, however, contributed this year the Preface to 
Rolfs Dictionary of Trade and Commerce, in which he 
displays such a clear and comprehensive knowledge of the 
subject, as might lead the reader to think that its author had 
devoted all his life to it. I asked him, whether he knew much 
of Rolt, and of his work. "Sir, (said he) I never saw the man, 
and never read the book. The booksellers wanted a Preface 
to a Dictionary of Trade and Commerce. I knew very well 
what such a Dictionary should be, and I wrote a Preface 
accordingly." Rolt, who wrote a great deal for the book- 
sellers, was, as Johnson told me, a singular character. Though 
not in the least acquainted with him, he used to say, "I am 
just come from Sam. Johnson." This was a sufficient speci- 
men of his vanity and impudence. But he gave a more 
eminent proof of it in our sister kingdom, as Dr. Johnson in- 
formed me. When Akenside's Pleasures of the Imagination 
first came out, he did not put his name to the poem. Rolt 
went over to Dublin, published an edition of it, and put his 
own name to it. Upon the fame of this he lived for several 
months, being entertained at the best tables as the "the 
ingenious Mr. Rolt." His conversation indeed, did not dis- 
cover much of the fire of a poet; but it was recollected, that 
both Addison and Thomson were equally dull till excited by 
wine. Akenside having been informed of this imposition, 
vindicated his right by publishing the poem with its real 
author's name. 



60 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1762 

The accession of George III to the throne of these king- 
doms, opened a new and brighter prospect to men of literary 
merit, who had been honored with no mark of royal favor in 
the preceding reign. His present Majesty's education in this 
country, as well as his taste and beneficence, prompted him 
to be the patron of science and the arts; and early this year 
Johnson having been represented to him as a very learned and 
good man, without any certain provision, his Majesty was 
pleased to grant him a pension of three hundred pounds a 
year. The Earl of Bute, who was then Prime Minister, had 
the honor to announce this instance of his Sovereign's bounty, 
concerning which, many and various stories, all equally 
erroneous, have been propagated; maliciously representing 
it as a political bribe to Johnson, to desert his avowed prin- 
ciples, and become the tool of a government which he held to 
be founded in usurpation. I have taken care to have it in 
my power to refute them from the most authentic information. 
Lord Bute told me, that Mr. Wedderburne, now Lord Lough- 
borough, was the person who first mentioned this subject to 
him. Lord Loughborough told me, that the pension was 
granted to Johnson solely as the reward of his literary merit, 
without any stipulation whatever, or even tacit understand- 
ing that he should write for administration. His Lordship 
added, that he was confident the political tracts which Johnson 
afterwards did write, as they were entirely consonant with 
his own opinions, would have been written by him, though no 
pension had been granted to him. 

Mr. Thomas Sheridan and Mr. Murphy, who then lived a 
good deal both with him and Mr. Wedderburne, told me, that 
they previously talked with Johnson upon this matter, and 
that it was perfectly understood by all parties that the pension 
was merely honorary. Sir Joshua Reynolds told me, that 
Johnson called on him after his Majesty's intention had been 
notified to him, and said he wished to consult his friends as 
to the propriety of his accepting this mark of the royal favor, 
after the definitions which he had given in his Dictionary of 
pension and pensioners. He said he should not have Sir 
Joshua's answer till next day, when he would call again, and 



Age 53] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 61 

desired he might think of it. Sir Joshua answered that he was 
clear to give his opinion then, that there could be no objection 
to his receiving from the King a reward for literary merit; 
and that certainly the definitions in his Dictionary were not 
applicable to him. Johnson, it should seem, was satisfied, 
for he did not call again till he had accepted the pension, and 
had waited on Lord Bute to thank him. He then told Sir 
Joshua that Lord Bute said to him expressly, "It is not given 
you for anything you are to do, but for what you have done/' 
His Lordship, he said, behaved in the handsomest manner. 
He repeated the words twice, that he might be sure Johnson 
heard them, and thus set his mind perfectly at ease. This 
nobleman, who has been so virulently abused, acted with great 
honor in this instance, and displayed a mind truly liberal. 
A minister of a more narrow and selfish disposition would have 
availed himself of such an opportunity to fix an implied 
obligation on a man of Johnson's powerful talents to give him 
his support. 

But I shall not detain my readers longer by any words of my 
own, on a subject on which I am happily enabled, by the favor 
of the Earl of Bute, to present them with what Johnson him- 
self wrote; his lordship having been pleased to communicate 
to me a copy of the following letter to his late father, which 
does great honor both to the writer, and to the noble person 
to whom it is addressed: 

" To the Right Honorable The Earl of Bute, 
"My Lord, 

"When the bills were yesterday delivered to me by Mr. 
Wedderburne, I was informed by him of the future favors 
which his Majesty has, by your Lordship's recommendation, 
been induced to intend for me. 

"Bounty always receives part of its value from the manner 
in which it is bestowed; your Lordship's kindness includes 
every circumstance that can gratify delicacy, or enforce 
obligation. You have conferred your favors on a man who 
has neither alliance nor interest, who has not merited 
them by services, nor courted them by officiousness; you 



62 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1762 

have spared him the shame of solicitation, and the anxiety 
of suspense. 

"What has been thus elegantly given, will, I hope, not be 
reproachfully enjoyed; I shall endeavor to give your Lordship 
the only recompense which generosity desires, — the grati- 
fication of finding that your benefits are not improperly be- 
stowed. I am, my Lord, 

"Your Lordship's most obliged, 
"Most obedient, and most humble servant, 
"Sam. Johnson." 
" July 20, 1762." 



CHAPTER V (1763) 

Boswell's Memorable Year: The Meeting with 
Johnson 

Boswell's Plans for Meeting Johnson — Obstacles — The Quarrel 
with Sheridan — Boswell in Davies's Bookshop — Entry of Johnson 
— The Famous Meeting — Boswell Rebuked — Boswell Calls on 
Johnson — Remarks of Johnson on Madness — On Christopher 
Smart — On Garrick — At the Mitre Tavern — Johnson on Colley 
Cibber — On Gray — On Mallet — Dr. Goldsmith — Johnson and 
Goldsmith's The Vicar of Wakefield — Johnson on Scotland — On 
Rhyme and Blank Verse — Johnson's Library — Johnson on Con- 
ventional Lies — On the Acquaintance of Young People — On the 
Hebrides — On a Boy at School — On Greek and Latin — On 
Preaching — On the Pleasures of Nature — Johnson Accompanies 
Boswell to Harwich — Johnson's Habits at the Table — The Parting 
of the Friends at Harwich. 

This is to me a memorable year; for in it I had the happi- 
ness to obtain the acquaintance of that extraordinary man 
whose memoirs I am now writing; an acquaintance which I 
shall ever esteem as one of the most fortunate circumstances 
in my life. Though then but two-and-twenty, I had for sev- 
eral years read his works with delight and instruction, and 
had the highest reverence for their author, which had grown 
up in my fancy into a kind of mysterious veneration, by 
figuring to myself a state of solemn elevated abstraction, in 
which I supposed him to live in the immense metropolis of 
London. Mr. Gentleman, a native of Ireland, who passed 
some years in Scotland as a player, and as an instructor in 
the English language, a man whose talents and worth were 
depressed by misfortunes, had given me a representation of 
the figure and manner of Dictionary Johnson! as he was then 
generally called; and during my first visit to London, which 
was for three months in 1760, Mr. Derrick the poet, who was 
Gentleman's friend and countryman, flattered me with hopes 
that he would introduce me to Johnson, an honor of which I 

63 



64 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 

was very ambitious. But he never found an opportunity; 
which made me doubt that he had promised to do what was 
not in his power ; till Johnson some years afterwards told me, 
" Derrick, Sir, might very well have introduced you. I had a 
kindness for Derrick, and am sorry he is dead." 

In the summer of 1761 Mr. Thomas Sheridan was at Edin- 
burgh, and delivered lectures upon the English Language 
and Public Speaking to large and respectable audiences. I 
was often in his company, and heard him frequently expa- 
tiate upon Johnson's extraordinary knowledge, talents, and 
virtues, repeat his pointed sayings, describe his particulari- 
ties, and boast of his being his guest sometimes till two or 
three in the morning. At his house I hoped to have many 
opportunities of seeing the sage, as Mr. Sheridan obligingly 
assured me I should not be disappointed. 

When I returned to London in the end of 1762, to my 
surprise and regret I found an irreconcileable difference had 
taken place between Johnson and Sheridan. A pension of 
two hundred pounds a year had been given to Sheridan. 
Johnson, who, as has been already mentioned, thought 
slightingly of Sheridan's art, upon hearing that he was also 
pensioned, exclaimed, "What! have they given him a pen- 
sion? Then it is time for me to give up mine." Whether 
this proceeded from a momentary indignation, as if it were 
an affront to his exalted merit that a player should be re- 
warded in the same manner with him, or was the sudden 
effect of a fit of peevishness, it was unluckily said, and, in- 
deed, cannot be justified. Mr. Sheridan's pension was 
granted to him not as a player, but as a sufferer in the cause 
of government, when he was manager of the Theatre Royal 
in Ireland, when parties ran high in 1753. And it must 
also be allowed that he was a man of literature, and had 
considerably improved the arts of reading and speaking with 
distinctness and propriety. 

Johnson complained that a man who disliked him repeated 
his sarcasm to Mr. Sheridan, without telling him what fol- 
lowed, which was, that after a pause he added, "However, I 
am glad that Mr. Sheridan has a pension, for he is a very 



Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 65 

good man." Sheridan could never forgive this hasty con- 
temptuous expression. It rankled in his mind; and though 
I informed him of all that Johnson said, and that he would 
be very glad to meet him amicably, he positively declined 
repeated offers which I made, and once went off abruptly 
from a house where he and I were engaged to dine, because 
he was told that Dr. Johnson was to be there. I have no 
sympathetic feeling with such persevering resentment. It 
is painful when there is a breach between those who have 
lived together socially and cordially; and I wonder that there 
is not, in all such cases, a mutual wish that it should be 
healed. I could perceive that Mr. Sheridan was by no means 
satisfied with Johnson's acknowledging him to be a good man. 
That could not soothe his injured vanity. I could not but 
smile, at the same time that I was offended, to observe 
Sheridan in The Life of Swift, which he afterwards published, 
attempting, in the writhings of his resentment, to depreciate 
Johnson, by characterizing him as " A writer of gigantic fame, 
in these days of little men;" that very Johnson whom he 
once so highly admired and venerated. 

This rupture with Sheridan deprived Johnson of one of his 
most agreeable resources for amusement in his lonely even- 
ings; for Sheridan's well-informed, animated, and bustling 
mind never suffered conversation to stagnate; and Mrs. 
Sheridan was a most agreeable companion to an intellectual 
man. She was sensible, ingenious, unassuming, yet com- 
municative. I recollect, with satisfaction, many pleasing 
hours which I passed with her under the hospitable roof of 
her husband, who was to me a very kind friend. Her novel, 
entitled Memoirs of Miss Sydney Biddulph, contains an 
excellent moral, while it inculcates a future state of retribu- 
tion; and what it teaches is impressed upon the mind by a 
series of as deep distress as can affect humanit}^ in the amiable 
and pious heroine who goes to her grave unrelieved, but re- 
signed, and full of hope of " heaven's mercy." Johnson paid 
her this high compliment upon it: "I know not, Madam, 
that you have a right, upon moral principles, to make your 
readers suffer so much." 



66 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 11763 

Mr. Thomas Davies the actor, who then kept a bookseller's 
shop in Russel-street Covent-garden, told me that Johnson 
was very much his friend, and came frequently to his house, 
where he more than once invited me to meet him: but by 
some unlucky accident or other he was prevented from com- 
ing to us. 

Mr. Thomas Davies was a man of good understanding and 
talents, with the advantage of a liberal education. Though 
somewhat pompous, he was an entertaining companion; and 
his literary performances have no inconsiderable share of 
merit. He was a friendly and very hospitable man. Both 
he and his wife, (who has been celebrated for her beauty,) 
though upon the stage for many years, maintained an uniform 
decency of character; and Johnson esteemed them, and lived 
in as easy an intimacy with them as with any family which 
he used to visit. Mr. Davies recollected several of Johnson's 
remarkable sayings, and was one. of the best of the many 
imitators of his voice and manner, while relating them. He 
increased my impatience more and more to see the extraordi- 
nary man whose works I highly valued, and whose conversa- 
tion was reported to be so peculiarly excellent. 

At last, on Monday the 16th of May, when I was sitting 
in Mr. Davies's back-parlor, after having drunk tea with 
him and Mrs. Davies, Johnson unexpectedly came into the 
shop; and Mr. Davies having perceived him through the 
glass-door in the room in which we were sitting, advancing 
towards us, — he announced his awful approach to me, 
somewhat in the manner of an actor in the part of Horatio, 
when he addresses Hamlet on the appearance of his father's 
ghost, "Look, my Lord, it comes." I found that I had a 
very perfect idea of Johnson's figure, from the portrait of 
him painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds soon after he had pub- 
lished his Dictionary , is the attitude of sitting in his easy 
chair in deep meditation; which was the first picture his 
friend did for him, which Sir Joshua very kindly presented to 
me, and from which an engraving has been made for this 
work. Mr. Davies mentioned my name, and respectfully 
introduced me to him. I was much agitated; and recollect- 




SAMUEL JOHNSON 

IN 1756 

SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 



Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 67 

ing his prejudice against the Scotch, of which I had heard 
much, I said to Davies, " Don't tell where I come from.' 7 — ■ 
"From Scotland/' cried Davies, roguishly. "Mr. Johnson, 
(said I) I do indeed come from Scotland, but I cannot help 
it." I am willing to flatter myself that I meant this as light 
pleasantry to soothe and conciliate him, and not as an humili- 
ating abasement at the expense of my country. But however 
that might be, this speech was somewhat unlucky; for with 
that quickness of wit for which he was so remarkable, he 
seized the expression "come from Scotland," which I used in 
the sense of being of that country; and, as if I had said that 
I had come away from it, or left it, retorted, "That, Sir, I 
find, is what a very great many of your countrymen cannot 
help." This stroke stunned me a good deal; and when we 
had sat down, I felt myself not a little embarrassed, and ap- 
prehensive of what might come next. He then addressed 
himself to Davies : " What do you think of Garrick? He has 
refused me an order for the play for Miss Williams, because 
he knows the house will be full, and that an order would be 
worth three shillings." Eager to take any opening to get into 
conversation with him, I ventured to say, ' 0, Sir, I cannot 
think Mr. Garrick would grudge such a trifle to you." "Sir, 
(said he, with a stern look), I have known David Garrick 
longer than you have done; and I know no right you have 
to talk to me on the subject." Perhaps I deserved this 
check; for it was rather presumptuous in me, an entire 
stranger, to express any doubt of the justice of his animad- 
version upon his old acquaintance and pupil. I now felt 
myself much mortified, and began to think, that the hope 
which I had long indulged of obtaining his acquaintance was 
blasted. And, in truth, had not my ardor been uncom- 
monly strong, and my resolution uncommonly persevering 
so rough a reception might have deterred me for ever from 
making any further attempts. Fortunately, however, I re- 
mained upon the field not wholly discomfited; and was soon 
rewarded by hearing some of his conversation, of which I 
preserved the following short minute, without marking the 
questions and observations by which it was produced. 



68 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 

"People (he remarked) may be taken in once, who imagine 
that an author is greater in private life than other men. 
Uncommon parts require uncommon opportunities for their 
exertion. 

"In barbarous society, superiority of parts is of real con- 
sequence. Great strength or great wisdom is of much value 
to an individual. But in more polished times there are 
people to do everything for money; and then there are a 
number of other superiorities, such as those of birth and 
fortune, and rank, that dissipate men's attention, and leave 
no extraordinary share of respect for personal and intellec- 
tual superiority. This is wisely ordered by Providence, to 
preserve some equality among mankind." 

"Sir, this book {The Elements of Criticism, which he had 
taken up,) is a pretty essay, and deserves to be held in some 
estimation, though much of it is chimerical." 

Speaking of one who with more than ordinary boldness 
attacked public measures and the royal family, he said, "I 
think he is safe from the law, but he is an abusive scoundrel, 
and instead of applying to my Lord Chief Justice to punish 
him, I would send half a dozen footmen and have him well 
ducked." 

"The notion of liberty amuses the people of England, and 
helps to keep off the tedium vitae. 1 When a butcher tells you 
that his heart bleeds for his country, he has, in fact, no uneasy 
feeling." 

"Sheridan will not succeed at Bath with his oratory. 
Ridicule has gone down before him, and I doubt, Derrick is 
his enemy." 

"Derrick may do very well, as long as he can outrun his 
character; but the moment his character gets up with him, 
it is all over." 

It is, however, but just to record, that some years after- 
wards, when I reminded him of this sarcasm, he said, "Well, 
but Derrick has now got a character that he need not run 
away from." 

I was highly pleased with the extraordinary vigor of his 
1 Ennui, boredom. 



Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 69 

conversation, and regretted that I was drawn away from it 
by an engagement at another place. I had, for a part of the 
evening, been left alone with him, and had ventured to make 
an observation now and then, which he received very civilly; 
so that I was satisfied that though there was a roughness in 
his manner, there was no ill-nature in his disposition. Davies 
followed me to the door, and when I complained to him a 
little of the hard blows which the great man had given me, he 
kindly took upon him to console me by saying, " Don't be 
uneasy. I can see he likes you very well." 

A few days afterwards I called on Davies, and asked him 
if he thought I might take the liberty of waiting on Mr. 
Johnson at his chambers in the Temple. He said I certainly 
might, and that Mr. Johnson would take it as a compli- 
ment. So on Tuesday the 24th of May, after having been 
enlivened by the witty sallies of Messieurs Thornton, Wilkes, 
Churchill, and Lloyd, with whom I had passed the morning, 
I boldly repaired to Johnson. His Chambers were on the 
first floor of No. 1, Inner-Temple-lane, and I entered them 
with an impression given me by the Reverend Dr. Blair, of 
Edinburgh, who had been introduced to him not long before, 
and described his having " found the Giant in his den"; an 
expression which, when I came to be pretty well acquainted 
with Johnson, I repeated to him, and he was diverted at this 
picturesque account of himself. At this time the controversy 
concerning the pieces published by Mr. James Macpherson, 
as translations of Ossian, was at its height. Johnson had 
all along denied their authenticity; and, what was still 
more provoking to their admirers, maintained that they 
had no merit. The subject having been introduced by Dr. 
Fordyce, Dr. Blair, relying on the internal evidence of their 
antiquity, asked Dr. Johnson whether he thought any man 
of a modern age could have written such poems? Johnson 
replied, "Yes, Sir, many men, many women, and many chil- 
dren." Johnson at this time, did not know that Dr. Blair 
had just published a Dissertation, not only defending their 
authenticity, but seriously ranking them with the poems of 
Homer and Virgil; and when he was afterwards informed of 



70 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1773 

this circumstance, he expressed some displeasure at Dr. 
Fordyce's having suggested the topic, and said, "I am not 
sorry that they got thus much for their pains. Sir, it was 
like leading one to talk of a book, when the author is con- 
cealed behind the door." 

He received me very courteously: but, it must be con- 
fessed, that his apartment, and furniture, and morning dress, 
were sufficiently uncouth. His brown suit of clothes looked 
very rusty: he had on a little old shrivelled unpowdered wig, 
which was too small for his head; his shirt-neck and knees 
of his breeches were loose; his black worsted stockings ill 
drawn up; and he had a pair of unbuckled shoes by way of 
slippers. But all these slovenly particularities were forgot- 
ten the moment that he began to talk. Some gentlemen, 
whom I do not recollect, were sitting with him; and when 
they went away, I also rose; but he said to me, "Nay, don't 
go." — "Sir, (said I), I am afraid that I intrude upon you. 
It is benevolent to allow me to sit and hear you." He 
seemed pleased with this compliment, which I sincerely paid 
him, and answered, "Sir, I am obliged to any man who 
visits me." — I have preserved the following short minute of 
what passed this day. 

" Madness frequently discovers itself merely by unneces- 
sary deviation from the usual modes of the world. My poor 
friend Smart showed the disturbance of his mind, by falling 
upon his knees, and saying his prayers in the street, or in 
any other unusual place. Now although, rationally speak- 
ing, it is greater madness not to pray at all, than to pray as 
Smart did, I am afraid there are so many who do not pray, 
that their understanding is not called in question." 

Concerning this unfortunate poet, Christopher Smart, who 
was confined in a mad-house, he had, at another time, the 
following conversation with Dr. Burney. — Burney. "How 
does poor Smart do, Sir; is he likely to recover?" Johnson. 
" It seems as if his mind had ceased to struggle with the disease; 
for he grows fat upon it." Burney. " Perhaps, Sir, that 
may be from want of exercise." Johnson. "No, Sir, he 
has partly as much exercise as he used to have, for he digs in 






Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 71 

the garden. Indeed, before his confinement, he used for 
exercise to walk to the alehouse; but he was carried back 
again. I did not think he ought to be shut up. His in- 
firmities were not noxious to society. He insisted on people 
praying with him; and I'd as lief pray with Kit Smart as 
any one else. Another charge was, that he did not love 
clean linen; and I have no passion for it." 

Johnson continued. " Mankind have a great aversion to 
intellectual labor; but even supposing knowledge to be easily 
attainable, more people would be content to be ignorant 
than would take even a little trouble to acquire it." 

"The morality of an action depends on the motive from 
which we act. If I fling half a crown to a beggar with inten- 
tion to break his head, and he picks it up and buys victuals 
with it, the physical effect is good; but, with respect to me, 
the action is very wrong. So, religious exercises, if not per- 
formed with an intention to please God, avail us nothing. 
As our Saviour says of those who perform them from other 
motives, 'Verily they have their reward.'" 

"The Christian religion has very strong evidences. It, 
indeed, appears in some degree strange to reason; but in 
History we have undoubted facts, against which, in reason- 
ing a priori, we have more arguments than we have for them; 
but then, testimony has great weight, and casts the balance. 
I would recommend to every man whose faith is yet unset- 
tled, Grotius, — Dr. Pearson, — and Dr. Clarke." 

Talking of Garrick, he said, "He is the first man in the 
world for sprightly conversation." 

When I rose a second time, he again pressed me to stay, 
which I did. 

He told me, that he generally went abroad at four in the 
afternoon, and seldom came home till two in the morning. 
I took the liberty to ask if he did not think it wrong to live 
thus, and not make more use of his great talents. He owned 
it was a bad habit. On reviewing at the distance of many 
years my journal of this period, I wonder how, at my first 
visit, I ventured to talk to him so freely, and that he bore it 
with so much indulgence. 



72 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 

Before we parted, he was so good as to promise to favor 
me with his company one evening at my lodgings: and, as I 
took my leave, shook me cordially by the hand. It is almost 
needless to add, that I felt no little elation at having now so 
happily established an acquaintance of which I had been so 
long ambitious. 

My readers will, I trust, excuse me for being thus minutely 
circumstantial, when it is considered that the acquaintance 
of Dr. Johnson was to me a most valuable acquisition, and 
laid the foundation of whatever instruction and entertain- 
ment they may receive from my collections concerning the 
great subject of the work which they are now perusing. 

I did not visit him again till Monday, June 13, at which 
time I recollect no part of his conversation, except that when 
I told him I had been to see Johnson ride upon three horses, 
he said, "Such a man, Sir, should be encouraged; for his 
performances show the extent of the human powers in one 
instance, and thus tend to raise our opinion of the faculties 
of man. He shows what may be attained by persevering 
application; so that every man may hope, that by giving as 
much application, although perhaps he may never ride three 
horses at a time, or dance upon a wire, yet he may be equally 
expert in whatever profession he has chosen to pursue." 

He again shook me by the hand at parting, and asked me 
why I did not come oftener to him. Trusting that I was 
now in his good graces, I answered, that he had not given 
me much encouragement, and reminded him of the check I 
had received from him at our first interview. "Poh, poh! 
(said he, with a complacent smile,) never mind these things. 
Come to me as often as you can. I shall be glad to see you." 

Our next meeting was not till Saturday, June 25, when 
happening to dine at Clifton's eating-house, in Butcher-row, I 
was surprised to perceive Johnson come in and take his seat at 
another table. Johnson had not observed that I was in the 
room. I followed him, however, and he agreed to meet me 
in the evening at the Mitre. I called on him, and we went 
thither at nine. We had a good supper, and port wine, of 
which he then sometimes drank a bottle. The orthodox 



Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 73 

high-church sound of the Mitre, — the figure and manner 
of the celebrated Samuel Johnson, — the extraordinary power 
and precision of his conversation, and the pride arising from 
finding myself admitted as his companion, produced a variety 
of sensations, and a pleasing elevation of mind beyond what 
I had ever before experienced. I find in my Journal the 
following minute of our conversation, which, though it will 
give but a very faint notion of what passed, is, in some degree, 
a valuable record; and it will be curious in this view, as show- 
ing how habitual to his mind were some opinions which appear 
in his works. 

"Colley Gibber, Sir, was by no means a blockhead; but by 
arrogating to himself too much, he was in danger of losing 
that degree of estimation to which he was entitled. His 
friends gave out that he intended his Birthday Odes should 
be bad: but that was not the case, Sir; for he kept them 
many months by him, and a few years before he died he 
showed me one of them, with great solicitude to render it 
as perfect as might be, and I made some corrections, to 
which he was not very willing to submit. I remember the 
following couplet in allusion to the King and himself: 

'Perch'd on the eagle's soaring wing, 
The lowly linnet loves to sing. ' 

Sir, he had heard something of the fabulous tale of the wren 
sitting upon the eagle's wing, and he had applied it to a linnet. 
Cibber's familiar style, however, was better than that which 
Whitehead has assumed. Grand nonsense is insupportable. 
Whitehead is but a little man to inscribe verses to players/' 

I did not presume to controvert this censure, which was 
tinctured with his prejudice against players, but I could not 
help thinking that a dramatic poet might with propriety pay 
a compliment to an eminent performer, as Whitehead has 
very happily done in his verses to Mr. Garrick. 

"Sir, I do not think Gray a first-rate poet. He has not a 
bold imagination, nor much command of words. The ob- 
scurity in which he has involved himself will not persuade us 
that he is sublime. His Elegy in a Church-yard has a happy 



74 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 

selection of images, but I don't like what are called his great 
things." 

I mentioned Mallet's tragedy of Elvira, which had been 
acted the preceding winter at Drury-lane, and that the 
Honorable Andrew Erskine, Mr. Dempster, and myself, had 
joined in writing a pamphlet, entitled Critical Strictures 
against it. That the mildness of Dempster's disposition had, 
however, relented; and he had candidly said, "We have hardly 
a right to abuse this tragedy; for bad as it is, how vain 
should either of us be to write one not near so good." John- 
son. "Why no, Sir; this is not just reasoning. You may 
abuse a tragedy, though you cannot write one. You may 
scold a carpenter who has made you a bad table, though you 
cannot make a table. It is not your trade to make tables." 

As Dr. Oliver Goldsmith will frequently appear in this 
narrative, I shall endeavor to make my readers in some degree 
acquainted with his singular character. He was a native of 
Ireland, and a contemporary with Mr. Burke, at Trinity 
College, Dublin, but did not then give much promise of future 
celebrity. He, however, observed to Mr. Malone, that ' ' though 
he made no great figure in mathematics, which was a study 
in much repute there, he could turn an Ode of Horace into 
English better than any of them." He afterwards studied 
physic at Edinburgh, and upon the Continent: and I have 
been informed, was enabled to pursue his travels on foot, 
partly by demanding at Universities to enter the lists as a 
disputant, by which, according to the custom of many of 
them, he was entitled to the premium of a crown, when 
luckily for him his challenge was not accepted; so that, as I 
once observed to Dr. Johnson, he disputed his passage through 
Europe. He then came to England, and was employed suc- 
cessively in the capacities of an usher to an academy, a cor- 
rector of the press, a reviewer, and a writer for a newspaper. 
He had sagacity enough to cultivate assiduously the acquaint- 
ance of Johnson, and his faculties were gradually enlarged 
by the contemplation of such a model. To me and many 
others it appeared that he studiously copied the manner of 
Johnson, though, indeed, upon a smaller scale. 



Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 75 

At this time I think he had published nothing with his 
name, though it was pretty generally known that one Dr. 
Goldsmith was the author of An Enquiry into the Present 
State of Polite Learning in Europe, and of The Citizen of the 
World, a series of letters supposed to be written from London 
by a Chinese. No man had the art of displaying with more 
advantage as a writer whatever literary acquisitions he made. 
Nihil quod tetigit non ornavit. 1 His mind resembled a fertile, 
but thin soil. There was a quick, but not a strong vegeta- 
tion, of whatever chanced to be thrown upon it. No deep 
root could be struck. The oak of the forest did not grow 
there : but the elegant shrubbery and the fragrant parterre ap- 
peared in gay succession. It has been generally circulated and 
believed that he was a mere fool in conversation; but, in truth, 
this has been greatly exaggerated. He had, no doubt, a 
more than common share of that hurry of ideas which we 
often find in his countrymen, and which sometimes produces 
a laughable confusion in expressing them. He was very 
much what the French call un etourdi, 2 and from vanity and 
an eager desire of being conspicuous wherever he was, he 
frequently talked carelessly without knowledge of the sub- 
ject, or even without thought. His person was short, his 
countenance coarse and vulgar, his deportment that of a 
scholar awkwardly affecting the easy gentleman. Those 
who were in any way distinguished excited envy in him to so 
ridiculous an excess, that the instances of it are hardly cred- 
ible. When accompanying two beautiful young ladies with 
their mother on a tour in France, he was seriously angry 
that more attention was paid to them than to him; and 
once at the exhibition of the Fantoccini 3 in London, when 
those who sat next him observed with what dexterity a pup- 
pet was made to toss a pike, he could not bear that it should 
have such praise, and exclaimed with some warmth, " Pshaw! 
I can do it better myself " 

He, I am afraid, had no settled system of any sort, so that 

1 There was nothing which he touched that he did not adorn. 

2 A light-headed person. 

3 Marionettes, puppets. 



76 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 

his conduct must not be strictly scrutinized; but his affections 
were social and generous, and when he had money he gave it 
away very liberally. His desire of imaginary consequence 
predominated over his attention to truth. When he began 
to rise into notice, he said he had a brother who was Dean of 
Durham, a fiction so easily detected, that it is wonderful how 
he should have been so inconsiderate as to hazard it. He 
boasted to me at this time of the power of his pen in com- 
manding money, which I believe was true in a certain degree, 
though in the instance he gave he was by no means correct. 
He told me that he had sold a novel for four hundred pounds. 
This was his Vicar of Wakefield. But Johnson informed me, 
that he had made the bargain for Goldsmith, and the price 
was sixty pounds. " And, Sir, (said he,) a sufficient price too, 
when it was sold; for then the fame of Goldsmith had not 
been elevated, as it afterwards was, by his Traveller: and the 
bookseller had such faint hopes of profit by his bargain, that 
he kept the manuscript by him a long time, and did not 
publish it till after The Traveller had appeared. Then, to be 
sure, it was accidentally worth more money." 

Mrs. Piozzi and Sir John Hawkins have strangely mis- 
stated the history of Goldsmith's situation and Johnson's 
friendly interference, when this novel was sold. I shall give 
it authentically from Johnson's own exact narration. 

"I received one morning a message from poor Goldsmith 
that he was in great distress, and as it was not in his power to 
come to me, begging that I would come to him as soon as 
possible. I sent him a guinea, and promised to come to him 
directly. I accordingly went as soon as I was dressed, and 
found that his landlady had arrested him for his rent, at 
which he was in a violent passion. I perceived that he had 
already changed my guinea, and had got a bottle of Madeira 
and a glass before him. I put the cork into the bottle, de- 
sired he would be calm, and began to talk to him of the means 
by which he might be extricated. He then told me that he 
had a novel ready for the press, which he produced to me. I 
looked into it, and saw its merit; told the landlady I should 
soon return, and having gone to a bookseller, sold it for 



Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 77 

sixty pounds. I brought Goldsmith the money, and he dis- 
charged his rent, not without rating his landlady in a high 
tone for having used him so ill." 

I had as my guests this evening at the Mitre tavern, Dr. 
Johnson, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Thomas Davies, Mr. Eccles, 
an Irish gentleman, for whose agreeable company I was 
obliged to Mr. Davies, and the Reverend Mr. John Ogilvie, 
who was desirous of being in company with my illustrious 
friend, while I, in my turn, was proud to have the honor of 
showing one of my countrymen upon what easy terms John- 
son permitted me to live with him. 

Mr. Ogilvie was unlucky enough to choose for the topic 
of his conversation the praises of his native country. He 
began* with saying, that there was very rich land around 
Edinburgh. Goldsmith, who had studied physic there, con- 
tradicted this, very untruly, with a sneering laugh. Discon- 
certed a little by this, Mr. Ogilvie then took a new ground, 
where, I suppose, he thought himself perfectly safe; for he 
observed, that Scotland had a great many noble wild pros- 
pects. Johnson. "I believe, Sir, you have a great many. 
Norway, too, has noble wild prospects; and Lapland is re- 
markable for prodigious noble wild prospects. But, Sir, 
let me tell you, the noblest prospect which a Scotchman ever 
sees, is the high road that leads him to England!" This un- 
expected and pointed sally produced a roar of applause. 
After all, however, those who admire the rude grandeur of 
Nature cannot deny it to Caledonia. 

On Saturday, July 9, I found Johnson surrounded with a 
numerous levee, but have not preserved any part of his con- 
versation. On the 14th we had another evening by ourselves 
at the Mitre. It happening to be a very rainy night, I made 
some common-place observations on the relaxation of nerves 
and depression of spirits which such weather occasioned; 
adding, however, that it was good for the vegetable creation. 
Johnson, who, as we have already seen, denied that the tem- 
perature of the air had any influence on the human frame, 
answered, with a smile of ridicule, "Why, yes, Sir, it is good 
for vegetables, and for the animals who eat those vegetables, 



78 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 

and for the animals who eat those animals." This observa- 
tion of his aptly enough introduced a good supper; and I 
soon forgot, in Johnson's company, the influence of a moist 
atmosphere. 

He enlarged very convincingly upon the excellence of 
rhyme over blank verse in English poetry. I mentioned to 
him that Dr. Adam Smith, in his lectures upon composition, 
when I studied under him in the College of Glasgow, had 
maintained the same opinion strenuously, and I repeated 
some of his arguments. Johnson. "Sir, I was once in com- 
pany with Smith, and we did not take to each other; but had 
I known that he loved rhyme as much as you tell me he does, 
I should have hugged him." 

Mr. Levett this day showed me Dr. Johnson's library, 
which was contained in two garrets over his Chambers, where 
Lintot, son of the celebrated bookseller of that name, had 
formerly his warehouse. I found a number of good books, 
but very dusty and in great confusion. The floor was 
strewed with manuscript, leaves, in Johnson's own hand- 
writing, which I beheld with a degree of veneration, supposing 
they perhaps might contain portions of the Rambler, or of 
Rasselas. I observed an apparatus for chemical experiments, 
of which Johnson was all his life very fond. The place 
seemed to be very favorable for retirement and meditation. 
Johnson told me, that he went up thither without mention- 
ing it to his servant when he wanted to study, secure from 
interruption; for he would not allow his servant to say he 
was not at home when he really was. "A servant's strict 
regard for truth, (said he) must be weakened by such a 
practice. A philosopher may know that it is merely a form 
of denial; but few servants are such nice distinguishers. If 
I accustom a servant to tell a lie for me, have I not reason to 
apprehend that he will tell many lies for himself?" I am, 
however, satisfied, that every servant, of any degree of intelli- 
gence, understands saying his master is not at home, not at 
all as the affirmation of a fact, but as the customary words, 
intimating that his master wished not to be seen; so that 
there can be no bad effect from it. 



Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 79 

At night, Mr. Johnson and I supped in a private room at 
the Turk's Head coffee-house, in the Strand. "I encourage 
this house (said he,) for the mistress of it is a good civil woman, 
and has not much business." 

"Sir, I love the acquaintance of young people; because, in 
the first place, I don't like to think myself growing old. In 
the next place, young acquaintances must last longest, if 
they do last; and then, Sir, young men have more virtue than 
old men; they have more generous sentiments in every re- 
spect. I love the young dogs of this age, they have more 
wit and humor and knowledge of life than we had; but then 
the dogs are not so good scholars. Sir, in my early years I 
read very hard. It is a sad reflection but a true one, that I 
knew almost as much at eighteen as I do now. My judgment, 
to be sure, was not so good, but I had all the facts. I remem- 
ber very well, when I was at Oxford, an old gentleman said 
to me, ' Young man, ply your book diligently now, and 
acquire a stock of knowledge; for when years come upon 
you, you will find that poring upon books will be but an 
irksome task/" 

I spoke of Sir James Macdonald as a 3 r oung man of most 
distinguished merit, who united the highest reputation at 
Eton and Oxford, with the patriarchal spirit of a great 
Highland Chieftain. I mentioned that Sir James had said 
to me, that he had never seen Mr. Johnson, but he had a 
great respect for him, though at the same time it was mixed 
with some degree of terror. Johnson. "Sir, if he were to 
be acquainted with me, it might lessen both." 

The mention of this gentleman led us to talk of the West- 
ern Islands of Scotland, to visit which he expressed a wish 
that then appeared to be a very romantic fancy, which I 
little thought would be afterwards realized. He told me, 
that his father had put Martin's account of those islands into 
his hands when he was very young, and that he was highly 
pleased with it; that he was particularly struck with the 
St. Kilda man's notion that the high church of Glasgow had 
been hollowed out of a rock; a circumstance to which old 
Mr. Johnson had directed his attention. He said, he would 



80 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 

go to the Hebrides with me, when I returned from rny travels, 
unless some very good companion should offer when I was 
absent, which he did not think probable; adding, " There 
are few people whom I take so much to, as you." And when 
I talked of my leaving England, he said with a very affec- 
tionate air, "My dear Boswell, I should be very unhappy at 
parting, did I think we were not to meet again." — I cannot 
too often remind my readers that although such instances of 
his kindness are doubtless very flattering to me, yet I hope 
my recording them will be ascribed to a better motive than 
to vanity; for they afford unquestionable evidence of his 
tenderness and complacency, which some, while they were 
forced to acknowledge his great powers, have been so strenu- 
ous to deny. 

He maintained that a boy at school was the happiest of 
human beings. I supported a different opinion, from which 
I have never yet varied, that a man is happier: and I enlarged 
upon the anxiety and sufferings which are endured at school. 
Johnson. "Ah! Sir, a boy's being flogged is not so severe 
as a man's having the hiss of the world against him. Men 
have a solicitude about fame; and the greater share they 
have of it, the more afraid they are of losing it." I silently 
asked myself, "Is it possible that the great Samuel Johnson 
really entertains any such apprehension, and is not confident 
that his exalted fame is established upon a foundation never 
to be shaken?" 

On Thursday, July 28, we again supped in private at the 
Turk's Head coffee-house. Johnson. "Swift has a higher 
reputation than he deserves. His excellence is strong 
sense, for his humor, though very well, is not remarkably 
good. 

"Thomson, I think, had as much of the poet about him as 
most writers. Everything appeared to him through the 
medium of his favorite pursuit. He could not have viewed 
those two candles burning but with a poetical eye." 

"Has not — a great deal of wit, Sir?" Johnson. "I do 
not think so, Sir. He is, indeed, continually attempting wit, 
but he fails. And I have no more pleasure in hearing a man 



Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 81 

attempting wit and failing, than in seeing a man trying to 
leap over a diteh and tumbling into it." 

He laughed heartily when I mentioned to him a saying of 
his concerning Mr. Thomas Sheridan, which Foote took a 
wicked pleasure to circulate. "Why, Sir, Sherry is dull, 
naturally dull; but it must have taken him a great deal of 
pains to become what we now see him. Such an excess of 
stupidity, Sir, is not in Nature." — "So (said he,) I allowed 
him all his own merit." 

He now added, "Sheridan cannot bear me. I bring his 
declamation to a point. I ask him a plain question, 'What 
do you mean to teach?' Besides, Sir, what influence can 
Mr. Sheridan have upon the language of this great country, 
by his narrow exertions? Sir, it is burning a farthing candle 
at Dover, to show light at Calais." 

On Saturday, July 30, Dr. Johnson and I took a sculler at 
the Temple stairs, and set out for Greenwich. I asked him 
if he really thought a knowledge of the Greek and Latin 
languages an essential requisite to a good education. John- 
son. "Most certainly, Sir; for those who know them have 
a very great advantage over those who do not. Nay, Sir, 
it is wonderful what a difference learning makes upon people 
even in the common intercourse of life, which does not 
appear to be much connected with it." "And yet, (said I) 
people go through the world very well, and carry on the 
business of life to good advantage, without learning." John- 
son. "Why, Sir, that may be true in cases where learning 
cannot possibly be of any use; for instance, this boy rows 
us as well without learning, as if he could sing the song of 
Orpheus to the Argonauts, who were the first sailors." He 
then called to the boy. "What would you give, my lad, to 
know about the Argonauts?" "Sir, (said the boy) I would 
give what I have." Johnson was much pleased with his 
answer, and we gave him a double fare. Dr. Johnson then 
turning to me, "Sir, (said he) a desire of knowledge is the 
natural feeling of mankind; and every human being, whose 
mind is not debauched, will be willing to give all that he has, 
to get knowledge." 



82 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 

Wc landed at the Old Swan, and walked to Billingsgate, 
where we took oars and moved smoothly along the silver 
Thames. It was a very fine day. We were entertained with 
the immense number and variety of ships that were lying at 
anchor, and with the beautiful country on each side of the 
river. 

1 talked of preaching, and of the great success which those 
called Methodists have. Johnson. "Sir, it is owing to their 
expressing themselves in a plain and familiar manner, which 
is the only way to do good to the common people, and which 
clergymen of genius and learning ought to do from a prin- 
ciple of duty, when it is suited to their congregation; a prac- 
tice, for which they will be praised by men of sense. To in- 
sist against drunkenness as a crime, because it debases 
reason, the noblest faculty of man, would be of no service to 
the common people; but to tell them that they may die in 
a fit of drunkenness, and show them how dreadful that would 
be, cannot fail to make a deep impression. Sir, when your 
Scotch clergy give up their homely manner, religion will soon 
decay in that country." Let this observation, as Johnson 
meant it, be ever remembered. 

I was much pleased to find myself with Johnson at Green- 
wich, which he celebrates in his London as a favorite scene. 
I had the poem in my pocket, and read the lines aloud with 
enthusiasm : 

"On Thames's banks in silent thought we stood, 
Where Greenwich smiles upon the silver flood: 
Pleas'd with the seat which gave Eliza birth, 
We kneel, and kiss the consecrated earth." 

He remarked that the structure of Greenwich hospital was 
too magnificent for a place of charity, and that its parts 
were too much detached, to make one great whole. 

We walked in the evening in Greenwich Park. He asked 
me, I suppose, by the way of trying my disposition, "Is not 
this very fine?" Having no exquisite relish of the beauties 
of Nature, and being more delighted with "the busy hum of 
men," I answered, "Yes, Sir; but not equal to Fleet-street/ ' 
Johnson. "You are right, Sir." 



Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 83 

I am aware that many of my readers may censure my want 
of taste. Let me, however, shelter myself under the au- 
thority of a very fashionable Baronet in the brilliant world, 
who, on his attention being called to the fragrance of a May 
evening in the country, observed, "This may be very well; 
but for my part, I prefer the smell of a flambeau at the play- 
house." 

We stayed so long at Greenwich, that our sail up the river, 
in our return to London, was by no means so pleasant as in 
the morning; for the night air was so cold that it made me 
shiver. I was the more sensible of it from having sat up all 
the night before recollecting and writing in my Journal what 
I thought worthy of preservation; an exertion, which, during 
the first part of my acquaintance with Johnson, I frequently 
made. I remember having sat up four nights in one week, 
without being much incommoded in the day time. 

Johnson, whose robust frame was not in the least affected 
by the cold, scolded me, as if my shivering had been a paltry 
effeminacy, saying, "Why do you shiver?" Sir William 
Scott, of the Commons, told me, that when he complained 
of a headache in the post-chaise, as they were travelling to- 
gether to Scotland, Johnson treated him in the same manner : 
"At your age, Sir, I had no headache." It is not easy to 
make allowance for sensations in others, which we ourselves 
have not at the time. We must all have experienced how 
very differently we are affected by the complaints of our 
neighbors, when we are well and when we are ill. In full 
health, we can scarcely believe that they suffer much; so 
faint is the image of pain upon our imagination; when 
softened by sickness, we readily sympathize with the suffer- 
ings of others. 

After we had again talked of my setting out for Holland, 
he said, "I must see thee out of England; I will accompany 
you to Harwich." I could not find words to express what I 
felt upon this unexpected and very great mark of his affec- 
tionate regard. 

Next day, Sunday July 31, I told him I had been that 
morning at a meeting of the people called Quakers, where I 



84 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 

had heard a woman preach. Johnson. "Sir, a woman's 
preaching is like a dog's walking on his hind legs. It is not 
done well; but you are surprised to find it done at all." 

On Tuesday, August 2, (the day of my departure from 
London having been fixed for the 5th,) Dr. Johnson did me 
the honor to pass a part of the morning with me at my 
Chambers. He said, that "he always felt an inclination to 
do nothing." I observed, that it was strange to think that 
the most indolent man in Britain had written the most 
laborious work, The English Dictionary. 

After tea he carried me to what he called his walk, which 
was a long narrow paved court in the neighborhood, over- 
shadowed by some trees. There we sauntered a consider- 
able time; and I complained to him that my love of London 
and of his company was such, that I shrunk almost from 
the thought of going even to travel, which is generally so 
much desired by young men. He roused me by manly and 
spirited conversation. He advised me, when settled in any 
place abroad, to study with an eagerness after knowledge, 
and to apply to Greek an hour every day; and when I was 
moving about, to read diligently the great book of mankind. 

On Friday, August 5, we set out early in the morning in the 
Harwich stage coach. A fat elderly gentlewoman and a 
young Dutchman seemed the most inclined among us to 
conversation. At the inn where we dined, the gentlewoman 
said that she had done her best to educate her children; and, 
particularly, that she had never suffered them to be a moment 
idle. Johnson. "I wish, Madam, you would educate me 
too; for I have been an idle fellow all my life." "I am sure, 
Sir, (said she) you have not been idle." Johnson. "Nay, 
Madam, it is very true; and that gentleman there, (pointing 
to me) has been idle. He was idle at Edinburgh. His father 
sent him to Glasgow, where he continued to be idle. He 
then came to London, where he has been very idle; and now 
he is going to Utrecht, where he will be as idle as ever." I 
asked him privately how he could expose me so. Johnson. 
"Poh, poh! (said he) they knew nothing about you, and 
will think of it no more." Though by no means niggardly, 



Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 85 

his attention to what was generally right was so minute, that 
having observed at one of the stages that I ostentatiously 
gave a shilling to the coachman, when the custom was for 
each passenger to give only sixpence, he took me aside and 
scolded me, saying that what I had done would make the 
coachman dissatisfied with all the rest of the passengers who 
gave him no more than his due. This was a just reprimand; 
for in whatever way a man may indulge his generosity or his 
vanity in spending his money, for the sake of others, he 
ought not to raise the price of any article for which there is a 
constant demand. 

At supper this night he talked of good eating with uncom- 
mon satisfaction. "Some people (said he,) have a foolish 
way of not minding, or pretending not to mind, what they 
eat. For my part, I mind my belly very studiously, and 
very carefully; for I look upon it, that he who does not mind 
his belly, will hardly mind anything else." He now appeared 
to me Jean Bull philosophe, 1 and he was for the moment, not 
only serious but vehement. Yet I have heard him, upon 
other occasions, talk with great contempt of people who 
were anxious to gratify their palates; and the 206th number 
of his Rambler is a masterly essay against gulosity. His 
practice, indeed, I must acknowledge, may be considered as 
casting the balance of his different opinions upon this subject; 
for I never knew any man who relished good eating more 
than he did. When at table, he was totally absorbed in the 
business of the moment; his looks seemed riveted to his 
plate; nor would he, unless when in very high company, 
say one word, or even pay the least attention to what was 
said by others, till he had satisfied his appetite: which was 
so fierce, and indulged with such intenseness, that while in 
the act of eating, the veins of his forehead swelled, and 
generally a strong perspiration was visible. To those whose 
sensations were delicate, this could not but be disgusting; 
and it was doubtless not very suitable to the character of a 
philosopher, who should be distinguished by self-command. 
But it must be owned, that Johnson, though he could be 
1 John Bull in the role of a philosopher. 



86 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1763 

rigidly abstemious, was not a temperate man either in eating 
or drinking. He could refrain, but he could not use moder- 
ately. He told me, that he had fasted two days without in- 
convenience, and that he had never been hungry but once. 
They who beheld with wonder how much he ate upon all 
occasions, when his dinner was to his taste, could not easily 
conceive what he must have meant by hunger; and not only 
was he remarkable for the extraordinary quantity which he 
ate, but he was, or affected to be, a man of very nice dis- 
cernment in the science of cookery. He used to descant 
critically on the dishes which had been at table where he had 
dined or supped, and to recollect very minutely what he had 
liked. I remember when he was in Scotland, his praising 
Gordon's palates, (a dish of palates at the Honorable Alex- 
ander Gordon's), with a warmth of expression which might 
have done honor to more important subjects. "As for 
Maclaurin's imitation of a made dish, it was a wretched at- 
tempt." He about the same time was so much displeased 
with the performances of a nobleman's French cook, that he 
exclaimed with vehemence, "Fd throw such a rascal into 
the river; " and he then proceeded to alarm a lady at whose 
house he was to sup, by the following manifesto of his skill: 
"I, Madam, who live at a variety of good tables, am a 
much better judge of cookery, than any person who has a 
very tolerable cook, but lives much at home; for his palate 
is gradually adapted to the taste of his cook: whereas, 
Madam, in trying by a wider range, I can more exquisitely 
judge." When invited to dine, even with an intimate friend, 
he was not pleased if something better than a plain dinner 
was not prepared for him. I have heard him say on such an 
occasion, "This was a good dinner enough, to be sure: but 
it was not a dinner to ask a man to." On the other hand, 
he was wont to express, with great glee, his satisfaction when 
he had been entertained quite to his mind. One day when he 
had dined with his neighbor and landlord, in Bolt-court, Mr. 
Allen, the printer, whose old housekeeper had studied his taste 
in every thing, he pronounced this eulogy: "Sir, we could not 
have had a better dinner, had there been a Synod of Cooks." 



Age 54] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 87 

Next day we got to Harwich, to dinner; and my passage 
in the packet-boat to Helvoetsluys being secured, and my 
baggage put on board, we dined at our inn by ourselves. I 
happened to say, it would be terrible if he should not find a 
speedy opportunity of returning to London, and be confined 
in so dull a place. Johnson. "Don't, Sir, accustom yourself 
to use big words for little matters. It would not be terrible 
though I were to be detained some time here." The practice 
of using words of disproportionate magnitude, is, no doubt, 
too frequent everywhere; but, I think, most remarkable 
among the French, of v^hich, all who have traveled in France 
must have been struck with innumerable instances. 

My revered friend walked down with me to the beach, 
where we embraced and parted with tenderness, and engaged 
to correspond by letters. I said, "I hope, Sir, you will not 
forget me, in my absence." Johnson. "Nay, Sir, it is 
more likely you should forget me, than that I should for- 
get you." As the vessel put out to sea, I kept my eyes upon 
him for a considerable time, while he remained rolling his 
majestic frame in his usual manner; and at last I perceived 
him walk back into the town, and he disappeared. 



CHAPTER VI (1764-1767) 

The Founding of the Club 

Founding of the Famous Club — Circumstances of Its Origin — 
Its Chief Members — Johnson's Observance of Solemn Days — 
— His Hypochondria — Eccentricities — Honorary Degree from 
Trinity College, Dublin — The Friendship with the Thrales — 
Johnson's Esteem for Henry Thrale — Value for Johnson of this 
Connection — The Edition of Shakespeare — Return of Boswell to 
London. 

♦ Early in 1764 Johnson paid a visit to the Langton family, 
at their seat of Langton in Lincolnshire, where he passed some 
time, much to his satisfaction. 

Soon after his return to London, which was in February, 
was founded that Club which existed long without a name, 
but at Mr. Garrick's funeral became distinguished by the 
title of The Literary Club. Sir Joshua Reynolds had the merit 
of being the first proposer of it, to which Johnson acceded; 
and the original members were Sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr. 
Johnson, Mr. Edmund Burke, Dr. Nugent, Mr. Beauclerk, 
Mr. Langton, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Chamier, and Sir John 
Hawkins. They met at the Turk's Head, in Gerrard-street, 
Soho, one evening in every week, at seven, and generally con- 
tinued their conversation till a pretty late hour. This club 
has been gradually increased to its present number, thirty- 
five. After about ten years, instead of supping weekly, it was 
resolved to dine together once a fortnight during the meeting 
of Parliament. Their original tavern having been converted 
into a private house, they moved first to Prince's in Sackville- 
street, then to Le Telier's in Dover-street, and now meet at 
Parsloe's, St. James's-street. Between the time of its forma- 
tion and the time at which this work is passing through the 
press, (June 1792), the following persons, now dead, were 
members of it: Mr. Dunning, (afterwards Lord Ashburton,) 
Mr. Samuel Dyer, Mr. Garrick, Dr. Shipley Bishop of St, 

88 



Age 55] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 89 

Asaph, Mr. Vesey, Mr. Thomas Warton, and Dr. Adam 
Smith. The present members are Mr. Burke, Mr. Langton, 
Lord Charlemont, Sir Robert Chambers, Dr. Percy Bishop of 
Dromore, Dr. Barnard Bishop of Killaloe, Dr. Marlay Bishop 
of Clonfert, Mr. Fox, Dr. George Fordyce, Sir William Scott, 
Sir Joseph Banks, Sir Charles Bunbury, Mr. Windham of 
Norfolk, Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Gibbon, Sir William Jones, Mr. 
Colman, Mr. Steevens, Dr. Burney, Dr. Joseph Warton, Mr. 
Malone, Lord Ossory, Lord Spencer, Lord Lucan, Lord Pal- 
merston, Lord Eliot, Lord Macartney, Mr. Richard Burke, 
junior, Sir William Hamilton, Dr. Warren, Mr. Courtenay, 
Dr. Hinchliffe, Bishop of Peterborough, the Duke of Leeds, 
Dr. Douglas Bishop of Salisbury, and the writer of this 
account. 

Sir John Hawkins represents himself as a seceder from this 
society, and assigns as the reason of his withdrawing himself 
. from it, that its late hours were inconsistent with his domestic 
arrangements. In this he is not accurate; for the fact was, 
that he one evening attacked Mr. Burke in so rude a manner, 
that all the company testified their displeasure; and at their 
next meeting his reception was such, that he never came again. 

He is equally inaccurate with respect to Mr. Garrick, of 
whom he says, "he trusted that the least intimation of a desire 
to come among us, would procure him a ready admission; but 
in this he was mistaken. Johnson consulted me upon it; and 
when I could find no objection to receiving him, exclaimed, — ■ 
'He will disturb us by his buffoonery ;' — and afterwards so 
managed matters, that he was never formally proposed, and, 
by consequence, never admitted." 

In justice both to Mr. Garrick and Dr. Johnson, I think it 
necessary to rectify this mis-statement. The truth is, that 
not very long after the institution of our club, Sir Joshua 
Reynolds was speaking of it to Garrick. "I like it much, 
(said he,) I think I shall be of you." When Sir Joshua men- 
tioned this to Dr. Johnson, he was much displeased with the 
actor's conceit. "He'll be of us, (said Johnson) how does he 
know we will permit him? The first Duke in England has no 
right to hold such language." However, when Garrick was 



90 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1764 

regularly proposed some time afterwards, Johnson, though 
he had taken a momentary offence at his arrogance, warmly 
and kindly supported him, and he was accordingly elected, 
was a most agreeable member, and continued to attend our 
meetings to the time of his death. 

It was his custom to observe certain days with a pious 
abstraction: viz., New Year's day, the day of his wife's 
death, Good Friday, Easterday, and his own birthday. He 
this year says, "I have now spent fifty-five years in resolving: 
having, from the earliest time almost that I can remember, 
been forming schemes of a better life. I have done nothing. 
The need of doing, therefore, is pressing, since the time of 
doing is short. O God, grant me to resolve aright, and to 
keep my resolutions, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen." Such 
a tenderness of conscience, such a fervent desire of improve- 
ment, will rarely be found. It is, surely, not decent in those 
who are hardened in indifference to spiritual improvement, 
to treat this pious anxiety of Johnson with contempt. 

About this time he was afflicted with a very severe return 
of the hypochondriac disorder, which was ever lurking about 
him. He was so ill, as, notwithstanding his remarkable love 
of company, to be entirely averse to society, the most fatal 
symptom of that malady. Dr. Adams told me, that as an 
old friend he was admitted to visit him, and that he found him 
in a deplorable state, sighing, groaning, talking to himself, and 
restlessly walking from room to room. He then used this 
emphatical expression of the misery which he felt. "I would 
consent to have a limb amputated to recover my spirits." 

Talking to himself was, indeed, one of his singularities ever 
since I knew him. I was certain that he was frequently 
uttering pious ejaculations; for fragments of the Lord's 
Prayer have been distinctly overheard. 

He had another particularity, of which none of his friends 
even ventured to ask an explanation. It appeared to me 
some superstitious habit, which he had contracted early, and 
from which he had never called upon his reason to disentangle 
him. This was his anxious care to go out or in at a door or 
passage, by a certain number of steps from a certain point, 



Age 55] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 91 

or at least so as that either his right or his left foot, (I am not 
certain which), should constantly make the first actual move- 
ment when he came close to the door or passage. Thus I 
conjecture: for I have, upon innumerable occasions, ob- 
served him suddenly stop, and then seem to count his steps 
with a deep earnestness; and when he had neglected or gone 
wrong in this sort of magical movement, I have seen him go 
back again, put himself in a proper posture to begin the 
ceremony, and, having gone through it, break from his ab- 
straction, walk briskly on, and join his companion. A 
strange instance of something of this nature, even when on 
horseback, happened when he was in the Isle of Skye. Sir 
Joshua Reynolds has observed him to go a good way about, 
rather than cross a particular alley in Leicester-fields; but 
this Sir Joshua imputed to his having had some disagreeable 
recollection associated with it. 

That the most minute singularities which belonged to him, 
and made very observable parts of his appearance and man- 
ner, may not be omitted, it is requisite to mention, that while 
talking or even musing as he sat in his chair, he commonly 
held his head to one side towards his right shoulder, and 
shook it in a tremulous manner, moving his body backwards 
and forwards, and rubbing his left knee in the same direction, 
with the palm of his hand. In the intervals of articulating 
he made various sounds with his mouth; sometimes as if 
ruminating, or what is called chewing the cud, sometimes 
giving a half whistle, sometimes making his tongue play 
backwards from the roof of his mouth, as if clucking like a 
hen, and sometimes protruding it against his upper gums in 
front, as if pronouncing quickly under his breath, too, too, too: 
all this accompanied sometimes with a thoughtful look, but 
more frequently with a smile. Generally when he had con- 
cluded a period, in the course of a dispute, by which time he 
was a good deal exhausted by violence and vociferation, he 
used to blow out his breath like a whale. This I suppose was 
a relief to his lungs ; and seemed in him to be a contemptuous 
mode of expression, as if he had made the arguments of his 
opponent fly like chaff before the wind. 



92 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1765 

I am fully aware how very obvious an occasion I here give 
for the sneering jocularity of such as have no relish of an 
exact likeness; which to render complete, he who draws it 
must not disdain the slightest strokes. But if witlings should 
be inclined to attack this account, let them have the candor 
to quote what I have offered in my defence. 

Trinity College, Dublin, at this time surprised Johnson with 
a spontaneous compliment of the highest academical honors, 
by creating him Doctor of Laws. This unsolicited mark of dis- 
tinction, conferred on so great a literary character, did much 
honor to the judgment and liberal spirit of that learned body. 

This year was distinguished by his being introduced into 
the family of Mr. Thrale, one of the most eminent brewers 
in England, and Member of Parliament for the borough of 
Southwark. Foreigners are not a little amazed, when they 
hear of brewers, distillers, and men in similar departments of 
trade, held forth as persons of considerable consequence. In 
this great commercial country it is natural that a situation 
which produces much wealth should be considered as very 
respectable; and, no doubt, honest industry is entitled to 
esteem. But, perhaps, the too rapid advance of men of low 
extraction tends to lessen the value of that distinction by 
birth and gentility, which has ever been found beneficial to 
the grand scheme of subordination. Johnson used to give 
this account of the rise of Mr. Thrale's father: "He worked 
at six shillings a week for twenty years in the great brewery, 
which afterwards was his own. The proprietor of it had an 
only daughter, who was married to a nobleman. It was not 
fit that a peer should continue the business. On the old man's 
death, therefore, the brewery was to be sold. To find a pur- 
chaser for so large a property was a difficult matter; and, 
after some time, it was suggested, that it would be advisable 
to treat with Thrale, a sensible, active, honest man, who had 
been employed in the house, and to transfer the whole to him 
for thirty thousand pounds, security being taken upon the 
property. This was accordingly settled. In eleven years 
Thrale paid the purchase money. He acquired a large for- 
tune, and lived to be a Member of Parliament for Southwark. 




HESTER LYNCH THRALE 

AFTERWARD HESTER LYNCH PIOZZI 



FROM THE PORTRAIT BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 



Age 56] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 93 

But what was most remarkable was the liberality with which 
he used his riches. He gave his son and daughters the 
best education. The esteem which his good conduct pro- 
cured him from the nobleman who had married his master's 
daughter, made him to be treated with much attention; and 
his son, both at school and at the University of Oxford, asso- 
ciated with young men of the first rank. His allowance from 
his father, after he left college, was splendid; no less than a 
thousand a year. This, in a man who had risen as old Thrale 
did, was a very extraordinary instance of generosity. He 
used to say, 'If this young dog does not find so much after I 
am gone as he expects, let him remember that he has had a 
great deal in my own time.' " 

The son, though in affluent circumstances, had good sense 
enough to carry on his father's trade, which was of such ex- 
tent, that I remember he once told me, he would not quit it 
for an annuity of ten thousand a year; "Not (said he,) that I 
get ten thousand a year by it, but it is an estate to a family/ ' 
Having left daughters only, the property was sold for the 
immense sum of one hundred and thirty-five thousand pounds; 
a magnificent proof of what may be done by fair trade in no 
long period of time. 

Mr. Thrale had married Miss Hester Lynch Salusbury, of 
good Welsh extraction, a lady of lively talents, improved by 
education. That Johnson's introduction into Mr. Thrale's 
family, which contributed so much to the happiness of his 
life, was owing to her desire for his conversation, is a very 
probable and the general supposition : but it is not the truth. 
Mr. Murphy, who was intimate with Mr. Thrale, having 
spoken very highly of Dr. Johnson, he was requested to make 
them acquainted. This being mentioned to Johnson, he 
accepted of an invitation to dinner at Thrale's, and was so 
much pleased with his reception, both by Mr. and Mrs. 
Thrale, and they so much pleased with him, that his invita- 
tions to their house were more and more frequent, till at last 
he became one of the family, and an apartment was appropri- 
ated to him, both in their house at Southwark and in their 
villa at Streatham. 



94 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1765 

Johnson had a very sincere esteem for Mr. Thrale, as a man 
of excellent principles, a good scholar, well skilled in trade, 
of a sound understanding, and of manners such as presented 
the character of a plain independent English 'Squire. As 
this family will frequently be mentioned in the course of the 
following pages, and as a false notion has prevailed that 
Mr. Thrale was inferior, and in some degree insignificant, 
compared with Mrs. Thrale, it may be proper to give a true 
state of the case from the authority of Johnson himself in his 
own words. 

"I know no man, (said he,) who is more master of his wife 
and family than Thrale. If he but holds up a finger, he is 
obeyed. It is a great mistake to suppose that she is above 
him in literary attainments. She is more flippant; but he 
has ten times her learning: he is a regular scholar; but her 
learning is that of a school-boy in one of the lower forms." 
My readers may naturally wish for some representation of 
the figures of this couple. Mr. Thrale was tall, well pro- 
portioned, and stately. As for Madam, or my Mistress, by 
which epithets Johnson used to mention Mrs. Thrale, she was 
short, plump, and brisk. She has herself given us a lively 
view of the idea which Johnson had of her person, on her 
appearing before him in a dark-colored gown: "You little 
creatures should never wear those sort of clothes, however; 
they are unsuitable in every way. What! have not all in- 
sects gay colors?" Mr. Thrale gave his wife a liberal in- 
dulgence, both in the choice of their company, and in the 
mode of entertaining them. He understood and valued 
Johnson, without remission, from their first acquaintance to 
the day of his death. Mrs. Thrale was enchanted with 
Johnson's conversation for its own sake, and had also a very 
allowable vanity in appearing to be honored with the atten- 
tion of so celebrated a man. 

Nothing could be more fortunate for Johnson than this 
connection. He had at Mr. Thrale 's all the comforts and 
even luxuries of life: his melancholy was diverted, and his 
irregular habits lessened by association with an agreeable and 
well-ordered family. He was treated with the utmost respect, 



Age 56] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 95 

and even affection. The vivacity of Mrs. Thrale's literary 
talk roused him to cheerfulness and exertion, even when they 
were alone. But this was not often the case; for he found 
here a constant succession of what gave him the highest 
enjoyment, the society of the learned, the witty, and the 
eminent in every way; who were assembled in numerous 
companies; called forth his wonderful powers, and gratified 
him with admiration, to which no man could be insensible. 

In the October of this year he at length gave to the world 
his edition of Shakespeare, which, if it had no other merit 
but that of producing his Preface, in which the excellencies 
and defects of that immortal bard are displayed with a 
masterly hand, the nation would have had no reason to 
complain. A blind indiscriminate admiration of Shakespeare 
had exposed the British nation to the ridicule of foreigners. 
Johnson, by candidly admitting the faults of his poet, had the 
more credit in bestowing on him deserved and indisputable 
praise, and doubtless none of all his panegyrists have done 
him half so much honor. Their praise was like that of a 
counsel, upon his own side of the cause; Johnson's was like 
the grave, well considered, and impartial opinion of the judge, 
which falls from his lips with weight, and is received with 
reverence. What he did as a commentator has no small share 
of merit, though his researches were not so ample, and his 
investigations so acute as they might have been; which we 
now certainly know from the labors of other able and ingenious 
critics who have followed him. He has enriched his edition 
with a concise account of each play, and of its characteristic 
excellence. Many of his notes have illustrated obscurities 
in the text, and placed passages eminent for beauty in a more 
conspicuous light; and he has, in general, exhibited such a 
mode of annotation, as may be beneficial to all subsequent 
editors. 

I returned to London in February, and found Dr. Johnson 
in a good house in Johnson's court, Fleet-street, in which he 
had accommodated Miss Williams with an apartment on the 
ground floor, while Mr. Levett occupied his post in the garret: 
his faithful Francis was still attending upon him. He re- 



96 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1766 

ceived me with much kindness. The fragments of our first 
conversation, which I have preserved, are these: I told him 
that Voltaire, in a conversation with me, had distinguished 
Pope and Dryden thus: — "Pope drives a handsome chariot, 
with a couple of neat trim nags; Dryden a coach, and six 
stately horses." Johnson. "Why, Sir, the truth is, they 
both drive coaches and six; but Dryden's horses are either 
galloping or stumbling: Pope's go at a steady even trot." 
He said of Goldsmith's Traveller, which had been published 
in my absence, "There has not been so fine a poem since 
Pope's time." 

" To Bennet Langton, Esq. At Langton, Near Spilsby, 
Lincolnshire. 
"Dear Sir, 

"What your friends have done, that from your departure 
till now nothing has been heard of you, none of us are able to 
inform the rest; but as we are all neglected alike, no one 
thinks himself entitled to the privilege of complaint. 

"I should have known nothing of you or of Langton, from 
the time that dear Miss Langton left us, had not I met Mr. 
Simpson, of Lincoln, one day in the street, by whom I was 
informed that Mr. Langton, your Mamma, and yourself, had 
been all ill, but that you were all recovered. 

"That sickness should suspend your correspondence, I did 
not wonder; but hoped that it would be renewed at your 
recovery. 

"Since you will not inform us where you are, or how you 
live, I know not whether you desire to know anything of us. 
However, I will tell you that The Club subsists; but we have 
the loss of Burke's company since he has been engaged in 
public business, in which he has gained more reputation than 
perhaps any man at his first appearance ever gained before. 
He made two speeches in the House for repealing the Stamp 
Act, which were publicly commended by Mr. Pitt, and have 
filled the town with wonder. 

"Burke is a great man by nature, and is expected soon to 
attain civil greatness. I am grown greater too, for I have 



Age 57] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 97 

maintained the newspapers these many weeks; and what is 
greater still, I have risen every morning since New Year's day, 
at about eight; when I was up, I have indeed done but little; 
yet it is no slight advancement to obtain for so many hours 
more the consciousness of being. 

"I wish you were in my new study; I am now writing my 
first letter in it. I think it looks very pretty about me. 

"Dyer is constant at the Club; Hawkins is remiss; I am 
not over diligent. Dr. Nugent, Dr. Goldsmith, and Mr. 
Reynolds are very constant. Mr. Lye is printing his Saxon 
and Gothic Dictionary: all The Club subscribes. 

"You will pay my respects to all my Lincolnshire friends. 

"I am, dear Sir, 
"Most affectionately yours, 
"Sam. Johnson." 
11 March 9, 1766. 
" Johnson's-court, Fleet-street." 



CHAPTER VII (1767-1771) 
Johnson Converses with High and Low 

Johnson in the Royal Library — The Meeting with the King — 
Johnson on the University Libraries — On His Own Writing and 
Reading — On Lord Lyttelton's History — On Aaron Hill — On 
Literary Reviews — Johnson Reports the Interview for His Friends 
— Johnson at the Mitre — On Life in London — On Scotland — 
On Pope — On Sympathy — On Medicated Baths — On the Subject 
of Death — Boswell Provokes Johnson — He Apologizes — Dr. 
Maxwell's Recollections of Johnson's Mode of Life and General 
Habits. 

In February, 1767, there happened one of the most re- 
markable incidents of Johnson's life, which gratified his 
monarchical enthusiasm, and which he loved to relate with 
all its circumstances, when requested by his friends. This 
was his being honored by a private conversation with his 
Majesty, in the library at the Queen's house. He had fre- 
quently visited those splendid rooms and noble collection 
of books, which he used to say was more numerous and 
curious than he supposed any person could have made in 
the time which the King had employed. Mr. Barnard, 
the librarian, took care that he should have every accommo- 
dation that could contribute to his ease and convenience, 
while indulging his literary taste in that place: so that he 
had here a very agreeable resource at leisure hours. 

His Majesty having been informed of his occasional visits, 
was pleased to signify a desire that he should be told when 
Dr. Johnson came next to the library. Accordingly, the 
next time that Johnson did come, as soon as he was fairly 
engaged with a book, on which, while he sat by the fire, he 
seemed quite intent, Mr. Barnard stole around to the apart- 
ment where the King was, and, in obedience to his Majesty's 
commands, mentioned that Dr. Johnson was then in the 
library. His Majesty said he was at leisure, and would go 

98 



Age 58] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 99 

to him: upon which Mr. Barnard took one of the candles 
that stood on the King's table, and lighted his Majesty 
through a suite of rooms, till they came to a private door 
into the library, of which his Majesty had the key. Being 
entered, Mr. Barnard stepped forward hastily to Dr. Johnson, 
who was still in a profound study, and whispered him, "Sir, 
here is the King." Johnson started up, and stood still. 
His Majesty approached him, and at once was courteously 
easy. 

His Majesty began by observing, that he understood he 
came sometimes to the library; and then mentioning his 
having heard that the Doctor had been lately at Oxford, 
asked him if he was not fond of going thither. To which 
Johnson answered, that he was indeed fond of going to Oxford 
sometimes, but was likewise glad to come back again. The 
King then asked him what they were doing at Oxford. John- 
son answered he could not much commend their diligence, 
but that in some respects they were mended, for they had 
put their press under better regulations, and were at that 
time printing Polybius. He was then asked whether there 
were better libraries at Oxford or Cambridge. He answered, 
he believed the Bodleian was larger than any they had at 
Cambridge; at the same time adding "I hope, whether we 
have more books or not than they have at Cambridge, we 
shall make as good use of them as they do." Being asked 
whether All-Souls or Christ-Church library was the largest, 
he answered, " All-Souls library is the largest we have, except 
the Bodleian." "Ay, (said the King.) that is the public 
library." 

His Majesty enquired if he was then writing anything. 
He answered, he was not, for he had pretty well told the 
world what he knew, and must now read to acquire more 
knowledge. The King, as it should seem with a view to urge 
him to rely on his own stores as an original writer, and to 
continue his labors, then said "I do not think you borrow 
much from anybody." Johnson said, he thought he had 
already done his part as a writer. "I should have thought 
so too, (said the King,) if you had not written so well." — 



100 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1767 

Johnson observed to me, upon this that "No man could 
have paid a handsomer compliment; and it was fit for a 
King to pay. It was decisive." When asked by another 
friend, at Sir Joshua Reynolds's, whether he made any reply 
to this high compliment, he answered, "No, Sir. When the 
King had said it, it was to be so. It was not for me to bandy 
civilities with my Sovereign." Perhaps no man who had 
spent his whole life in courts could have shown a more nice 
and dignified sense of true politeness than Johnson did in 
this instance. 

His Majesty having observed to him that he supposed he 
must have read a great deal; Johnson answered, that he 
thought more than he read; that he had read a great deal 
in the early part of his life, but having fallen into ill health, 
he had not been able to read much, compared with others: 
for instance, he said he had not read much, compared with 
Dr. Warburton. Upon which the King said, that he heard 
Dr. Warburton was a man of such general knowledge, that 
you could scarce talk with him on any subject on which he 
was not qualified to speak; and that his learning resembled 
Garrick's acting, in its universality. His Majesty then 
talked of the controversy between Warburton and Lowth, 
which he seemed to have read, and asked Johnson what he 
thought of it. Johnson answered "Warburton has most 
general, most scholastic learning: Lowth is the more correct 
scholar. I do not know which of them calls names best." 
The King was pleased to say he was of the same opinion; 
adding, "You do not think, then, Dr. Johnson, that there 
was much argument to the case." Johnson, said, he did 
not think there was. "Why, truly, (said the King,) when 
once it comes to calling names, argument is pretty well at 
an end." 

His Majesty then asked him what he thought of Lord 
Lyttelton's history, which was then just published. John- 
son said, he thought his style pretty good, but that he had 
blamed Henry the Second rather too much. "Why, (said 
the King,) they seldom do these things by halves." "No, 
Sir, (answered Johnson), not to Kings." But fearing to be 



Age 58] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 101 

misunderstood, he proceeded to explain himself; and imme- 
diately subjoined, "That for those who spoke worse of Kings 
than they deserved, he could find no excuse, but that he 
could more easily conceive how some might speak better of 
them than they deserved, without any ill intention; for, as 
Kings had much in their power to give, those who were favored 
by them would frequently, from gratitude, exaggerate their 
praises: and as this proceeded from a good motive, it was 
certainly excusable, as far as error could be excusable." 

The King then asked him what he thought of Dr. Hill. 
Johnson answered, that he was an ingenious man, but had 
no veracity; and immediately mentioned, as an instance of 
it, an assertion of that writer, that he had seen objects mag- 
nified to a much greater degree by using three or four micro- 
scopes at a time than by using one. "Now, (added Johnson,) 
every one acquainted with microscopes knows, that the more 
of them he looks through, the less the object will appear." 
"Why, (replied the King,) this is not only telling an untruth, 
but telling it clumsily; for, if that be the case, every one 
who can look through a microscope will be able to detect 
him." 

"I now, (said Johnson to his friends, when relating what 
had passed,) began to consider that I was depreciating this 
man in the estimation of his Sovereign, and thought it was 
time for me to say something that might be more favourable." 
He added, therefore, that Dr. Hill was, notwithstanding, a 
very curious observer; and if he would have been contented 
to tell the world no more than he knew, he might have been 
a very considerable man, and needed not to have recourse 
to such mean expedients to raise his reputation. 

The King then talked of literary journals, mentioned par- 
ticularly the Journal des Savans, and asked Johnson if it was 
well done. Johnson said, it was formerly very well done, 
and gave some account of the persons who began it, and 
carried it on for some years : enlarging at the same time, on 
the nature and use of such works. The King asked him 
if it was well done now. Johnson answered, he had no 
reason to think that it was. The King then asked him if 



102 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1767 

there were any other literary journals published in this 
kingdom, except the Monthly and Critical Reviews; and on 
being answered there was no other, his Majesty asked which 
of them was the best: Johnson answered, that the Monthly 
Review was done with most care, the Critical upon the best 
principles; adding that the authors of the Monthly Review 
were enemies to the Church. This the King said he was sorry 
to hear. 

The conversation next turned on the Philosophical Trans- 
actions, when Johnson observed that they had now a better 
method of arranging their materials than formerly. "Ay, 
(said the King,) they are obliged to Dr. Johnson for that;" 
for his Majesty had heard and remembered the circumstance, 
which Johnson himself had forgot. 

His Majesty expressed a desire to have the literary biog- 
raphy of this country ably executed, and proposed to Dr. 
Johnson to undertake it. Johnson signified his readiness 
to comply with his Majesty's wishes. 

During the whole of this interview, Johnson talked to his 
Majesty with profound respect, but still in his firm manly 
manner, with a sonorous voice, and never in that subdued 
tone which is commonly used at the levee and in the drawing 
room. After the King withdrew, Johnson showed himself 
highly pleased with his Majesty's conversation, and gracious 
behavior. He said to Mr. Barnard, "Sir, they may talk of 
the King as they will; but he is the finest gentleman I have 
ever seen." And he afterwards observed to Mr. Langton, 
"Sir, his manners are those of as fine a gentleman as we may 
suppose Lewis the Fourteenth or Charles the Second." 

At Sir Joshua Reynolds's, where a circle of Johnson's 
friends was collected round him to hear his account of this 
memorable conversation, Dr. Joseph Warton, in his frank 
and lively manner, was very active in pressing him to mention 
the particulars. "Come now, Sir, this is an interesting 
matter; do favor us with it." Johnson, with great good 
humor, complied. 

He told them, "I found his Majesty wished I should talk, 
and I made it my business to talk. I find it does a man good 



Age 59] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 103 

to be talked to by his sovereign. In the first place, a man 
cannot be in a passion — " Here some question interrupted 
him, which is to be regretted, as he certainly would have 
pointed out and illustrated many circumstances of advantage, 
from being in a situation, where the powers of the mind are 
at once excited to vigorous exertion and tempered by rever- 
ential awe. 

During all the time in which Dr. Johnson was employed 
in relating to the circle at Sir Joshua Reynolds's the particu- 
lars of what passed between the King and him, Dr. Gold- 
smith remained unmoved upon a sofa at some distance, 
affecting not to join in the least in the eager curiosity of the 
company. He assigned as a reason for his gloom and seeming 
inattention, that he apprehended Johnson had relinquished 
his purpose of furnishing him with a Prologue to his play, 
with the hopes of which he had been flattered; but it was 
strongly suspected that he was fretting with chagrin and 
envy at the singular honor Dr. Johnson had lately enjoyed. 
At length, the frankness and simplicity of his natural char- 
acter prevailed. He sprung from the sofa, advanced to 
Johnson, and in a kind "of flutter, from imagining himself 
in the situation which he had just been hearing described, 
exclaimed, "Well, you acquitted yourself in this conversation 
better than I should have done; for I should have bowed 
and stammered through the whole of it." 

Soon afterwards, he supped at the Crown and Anchor 
tavern, in the Strand, with a company whom I collected to 
meet him. When I called upon Dr. Johnson next morning, 
I found him highly satisfied with his colloquial prowess the 
preceding evening. "Well, (said he,) we had good talk." 
Boswell. "Yes, Sir, you tossed and gored several persons." 

To obviate all the reflections which have gone round the 
world to Johnson's prejudice, by applying to him the epithet 
of a bear, let me impress upon my readers a just and happy 
saying of my friend Goldsmith, who knew him well: "John- 
son, to be sure, has a roughness in his manner: but no man 
alive has a more tender heart. He has nothing of the bear 
bid his skin." 



104 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769 

On the 30th of September [1769] we dined together at the 
Mitre. Talking of a London life, he said, "The happiness 
of London is not to be conceived but by those who have been 
in it. I will venture to say, there is more learning and science 
within the circumference of ten miles from where we now 
sit, than in all the rest of the kingdom." Boswell. "The 
only disadvantage is the great distance at which people 
live from one another." Johnson. "Yes, Sir, but that is 
occasioned by the largeness of it, which is the cause of all 
the other advantages." Boswell. "Sometimes I have been 
in the humor of wishing to retire to a desert." Johnson. 
"Sir, you have desert enough in Scotland." 

We drank tea with Mrs. Williams. I had last year the 
pleasure of seeing Mrs. Thrale at Dr. Johnson's one morning, 
and had conversation enough with her to admire her talents; 
and to show her that I was as Johnsonian as herself. Dr. 
Johnson had probably been kind enough to speak well of me, 
for this evening he delivered me a very polite card from Mr. 
Thrale and her, inviting me to Streatham. 

On the 6th of October I complied with this obliging invi- 
tation, and found at an elegant villa, six miles from town, 
every circumstance that can make society pleasing. Johnson, 
though quite at home, was yet looked up to with an awe, tem- 
pered by affection, and seemed to be equally the care of his 
host and hostess. I rejoiced at seeing him so happy. 

He played off his wit against Scotland with a good-hu- 
moured pleasantry, which gave me, though no bigot to national 
prejudices, an opportunity for a little contest with him. 
I having said that England was obliged to us for gardeners, 
almost all their good gardeners being Scotchmen; — Johnson. 
"Why, Sir, that is because gardening is much more necessary 
amongst you than with us, which makes so many of your 
people learn it. It is all gardening with you. Things 
which grow wild here, must be cultivated with great care 
in Scotland. Pray now (throwing himself back in his chair 
and laughing,) are you ever able to bring the sloe to perfec- 
tion?" 

I boasted that we had the honor of being the first to abolish 



Age 60] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 105 

the unhospitable, troublesome, and ungracious custom of 
giving vails to servants. Johnson. "Sir, you abolished 
vails, because you were too poor to be able to give them." 

He honored me with his company at dinner on the 16th 
of October, at my lodgings in Old Bond-street, with Sir 
Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Garrick, Dr. Goldsmith, Mr. Murphy, 
Mr. BickerstafT, and Mr. Thomas Davies. Garrick played 
round him with a fond vivacity, taking hold of the breasts 
of his coat, and, looking up in his face with a lively archness, 
complimented him on the good health which he seemed then 
to enjoy; while the sage, shaking his head, beheld him with a 
gentle complacency. One of the company not being come 
at the appointed hour, I proposed, as usual upon such occa- 
sions, to order dinner to be served; adding, " Ought six 
people to be kept waiting for one?" "Why, yes, (answered 
Johnson, with a delicate humanity,) if the one will suffer 
more by your sitting down, than the six will do by waiting." 
Goldsmith, to divert the tedious minutes, strutted about, 
bragging of his dress, and I believe was seriously vain of it, 
for his mind was wonderfully prone to such impressions. 
"Come, come, (said Garrick,) talk no more of that. You 
are perhaps, the worst — eh, eh!" — Goldsmith was eagerly 
attempting to interrupt him, when Garrick went on, laughing 
ironically, "Nay, you will always look like a gentleman; 
but I am talking of being well or ill drest." "Well, let me 
tell you, (said Goldsmith,) when my tailor brought home 
my bloom-colored coat, he said, 'Sir, I have a favor to beg 
of you. When anybody asks you who made your clothes, 
be pleased to mention John Filby, at the Harrow, in Water- 
lane!" Johnson. "Why Sir, that was because he knew 
the strange color would attract crowds to gaze at it, and thus 
they might hear of him, and see how well he could make a 
coat even of so absurd a color." 

After dinner our conversation first turned upon Pope. 
Johnson said, his characters of men were admirably drawn, 
those of women not so well. He repeated to us, in his forcible 
melodious manner, the concluding lines of The Dunciad. 
While he was talking loudly in praise of those lines one of 



106 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769 

the company ventured to say, "Too fine for such a poem: — 
a poem on what?" Johnson, (with a disdainful look,) 
"Why, on dunces. It was worth while being a dunce then. 
Ah, Sir, hadst thou lived in those days! It is not worth while 
being a dunce now, when there are no wits." Bickerstaff 
observed as a peculiar circumstance, that Pope's fame was 
higher when he was alive than it was then. Johnson said, 
his Pastorals were poor things, though the versification was 
fine. He told us, with high satisfaction, the anecdote of 
Pope's enquiring who was the author of his London, 
and saying, he will be soon deterre. He observed, that in 
Dryden's poetry there were passages drawn from a pro- 
fundity which Pope could never reach. He repeated some 
fine lines on love, by the former, (which I have now forgot- 
ten,) and gave great applause to the character of Zimri. 
Goldsmith said, that Pope's character of Addison showed a 
deep knowledge of the human heart. Johnson said, that 
the description of the temple, in The Mourning Bride, was 
the finest poetical passage he had ever read; he recollected 
none in Shakespeare equal to it. 

I told him that I had dined lately at Foote's, who showed 
me a letter which he had received from Tom Davies, telling 
him that he had not been able to sleep from the concern he 
felt on account of "This sad affair of Baretti" begging of 
him to try if he could suggest anything that might be of 
service; and, at the same time, recommending to him an 
industrious young man who kept a pickle shop. Johnson. 
"Ay, Sir, here you have a specimen of human sympathy; 
a friend hanged, and a cucumber pickled. We know not 
whether Baretti or the pickle man has kept Davies from sleep : 
nor does he know himself. And as to his not sleeping, Sir; 
Tom Davies is a very great man; Tom has been upon the 
stage; and knows how to do these things. I have not been 
upon the stage, and cannot do those things." Boswell. "I have 
often blamed myself, Sir, for not feeling for others, as sensibly 
as many say they do." Johnson. "Sir, don't be duped by 
them any more. You will find these very feeling people are 
not very ready to do you good. They pay you by feeling." 



Age 60] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 107 

There was a pretty large circle this evening. Dr. Johnson 
was in very good humor, lively, and ready to talk upon all 
subjects. Mr. Fergusson, the self-taught philosopher, told 
him of a new invented machine which went without horses: 
a man who sat in it turned a handle, which worked a spring 
that drove it forward. "Then, Sir, (said Johnson,) what 
is gained is, the man has his choice whether he will move 
himself alone, or himself and the machine too." Dominicetti 
being mentioned, he would not allow him any merit. "Thera 
is nothing in all this boasted system. No, Sir; medicated 
baths can be no better than warm water: their only effect 
can be that of tepid moisture." One of the company took 
the other side, maintaining that medicines of various sorts, 
and some too of most powerful effect, are introduced into 
the human frame by the medium of the pores; and, there- 
fore, when warm water is impregnated with salutiferous 
substances, it may produce great effects as a bath. This 
appeared to me very satisfactory. Johnson did not answer 
it; but talking for victory, and determined to be master of 
the field, he had recourse to the device which Goldsmith 
imputed to him in the witty words of one of Cibber's come- 
dies: "There is no arguing with Johnson; for when his 
pistol misses fire, he knocks you down with the butt end of it." 
He turned to the gentleman, "Well, Sir, go to Dominicetti, 
and get thyself fumigated; but be sure that the steam be 
directed to thy head, for that is the peccant part." This pro- 
duced a triumphant roar of laughter from the motley assembly 
of philosophers, printers, and dependents, male and female. 

When we were alone, I introduced the subject of death, and 
endeavored to maintain that the fear of it might be got over. 
I told him that David Hume said to me, he was no more 
uneasy to think he should not be after his life, than that he 
had not been before he began to exist. Johnson. "Sir, if 
he really thinks so, his perceptions are disturbed; he is mad; 
if he does not think so, he lies. He may tell you he holds his 
finger in the flame of a candle without feeling pain; would 
you believe him? When he dies, he at least gives up all he 
has." Boswell. "Foote, Sir, told me, that when he was 



108 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1769 

very ill he was not afraid to die.' ' Johnson. " It is not true, 
Sir. Hold a pistol to Footers breast, or to Hume's breast, 
and threaten to kill them, and you'll see how they behave.'' 
Boswell. "But may we not fortify our minds for the ap- 
proach of death?" — Here I am sensible I was in the wrong, 
to bring before his view what he ever looked upon with horror; 
for although when in a celestial frame of mind in his Vanity 
of Human Wishes, he has supposed death to be "kind 
Nature's signal for retreat," from this state of being to "a 
happier seat," his thoughts upon this awful change were in 
general full of dismal apprehensions. His mind resembled 
the vast amphitheatre, the Coliseum at Rome. In the centre 
stood his judgment, which like a mighty gladiator, combated 
those apprehensions that, like the wild beasts of the Arena, 
were all around in cells, ready to be let out upon him. After 
a conflict, he drives them back into their dens; but not killing 
them, they were still assailing him. To my question, whether 
we might not fortify our minds for the approach of death, he 
answered, in a passion, "No, Sir, let it alone. It matters not 
how a man dies, but how he lives. The act of dying is not of 
importance, it lasts so short a time." He added (with an 
earnest look,) "A man knows it must be so, and submits. 
It will do him no good to whine." 

I attempted to continue the conversation. He was so pro- 
voked, that he said: "Give us no more of this;" and was 
thrown into such a state of agitation, that he expressed him- 
self in a way that alarmed and distressed me; showed an 
impatience that I should leave him, and when I was going 
away, called to me sternly, "Don't let us meet to-morrow." 

I went home exceedingly uneasy. All the harsh observa- 
tions which I had ever heard made upon his character, 
crowded into my mind, and I seemed to myself like the man 
who had put his head into the lion's mouth a great many 
times with perfect safety, but at last had it bit off. 

Next morning I sent him a note, stating that I might have 
been in the wrong, but it was not intentionally; he was there- 
fore, I could not help thinking, too severe upon me. That 
notwithstanding our agreement not to meet that day, I would 



Age 60] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 109 

call on him in my way to the city, and stay five minutes by 
my watch. " You are, (said I,) in my mind, since last night, 
surrounded with cloud and storm. Let me have a glimpse of 
sunshine, and go about my affairs in serenity and cheerfulness.' ' 

Upon entering his study, I was glad that he was not alone, 
which would have made our meeting more awkward. There 
were with him Mr. Steevens and Mr. Tyers, both of whom I 
now saw for the first time. My note had, on his own re- 
flection, softened him, for he received me very complacently; 
so that I unexpectedly found myself at ease; and joined in 
the conversation. 

1 "His general mode of life, during my acquaintance, seemed 
to b$ pretty uniform. About twelve o'clock I commonly 
visited him, and frequently found him in bed, or declaiming 
over his tea, which he drank very plentifully. He generally 
had a levee of morning visitors chiefly men of letters; Hawkes- 
worth, Goldsmith, Murphy, Langton, Steevens, Beauclerk, 
&c. &c, and sometimes learned ladies; particularly I remem- 
ber a French lady of wit and fashion doing him the honor of a 
visit. He seemed to me to be considered as a kind of public 
oracle, whom everybody thought they had a right to visit and 
consult; and doubtless they were well rewarded. I never 
could discover how he found time for his compositions. He 
declaimed all the morning, then went to dinner at a tavern, 
where he commonly stayed late, and then drank his tea at 
some friend's house, over which he loitered a great while, but 
seldom took supper. I fancy he must have read and wrote 
chiefly in the night, for I can scarcely recollect that he ever 
refused going with me to a tavern, and he often went to Rane- 
lagh, which he deemed a place of innocent recreation. 

"He frequently gave all the silver in his pocket to the poor, 
who watched him, between his house and the tavern where he 
dined. He walked the streets at all hours, and said he was 
never robbed, for the rogues knew he had little money, nor 
had the appearance of having much. 

"Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, he said, was the only 

1 From recollections supplied by the Rev. Dr. Maxwell, of Falk- 
land, Ireland. 



110 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1754-71 

book that ever took him out of bed two hours sooner than he 
wished to rise. 

"When exasperated by contradiction, he was apt to treat 
his opponents with too much acrimony: as, 'Sir, you don't 
see your way through that question :' — 'Sir, you talk the 
language of ignorance.' On my observing to him that a cer- 
tain gentleman had remained silent the whole evening, in 
the midst of a very brilliant and learned society, ' Sir, (said he,) 
the conversation overflowed, and drowned him.' 

"Speaking of a dull tiresome fellow, whom we chanced to 
meet, he said, 'That fellow seems to me to possess but one 
idea, and that is a wrong one.' 

"Much enquiry having been made concerning a gentleman, 
who had quitted a company where Johnson was, and no in- 
formation being obtained; at last Johnson observed, that 'he 
did not care to speak ill of any man behind his back, but he 
believed the gentleman was an attorney.' 

"He spoke with much contempt of the notice taken of 
Woodhouse, the poetical shoemaker. He said, it was all 
vanity and childishness, and that such objects were, to those 
who patronized them, mere mirrors of their own superiority. 
'They had better (said he,) furnish the man with good imple- 
ments for his trade, than raise subscriptions for his poems. 
He may make an excellent shoemaker, but can never make a 
good poet. A school-boy's exercise may be a pretty thing 
for a school-boy; but it is no treat for a man.' 

"A gentleman who had been very unhappy in marriage, 
married immediately after his wife died : Johnson said, it was 
the triumph of hope over experience. 

"He observed that a man of sense and education should 
meet a suitable companion in a wife. It was a miserable 
thing when the conversation could only be such as, whether 
the mutton should be boiled or roasted, and probably a dis- 
pute about that. 

"He did not approve of late marriages, observing that more 
was lost in point of time, than compensated for by any possible 
advantages. Even ill-assorted marriages were preferable to 
cheerless celibacy/ ' 






CHAPTER VIII (1772-1773) 
Johnson on Many Topics 

Johnson on Certain English Words — On Fielding — On Ghosts 

— On Goldsmith — On Garrick — On Scotland — Johnson Corres- 
ponds with an American — Johnson on Gesticulation — On Lord 
Chesterfield — Boswell Dines with Johnson — On Goldsmith Again 

— Boswell Admitted to The Club — Goldsmith Again — Anecdotes 
of Goldsmith. 

On Monday, March 23, I found him busy, preparing a 
fourth edition of his folio Dictionary. Mr. Peton, one of his 
original amanuenses, was writing for him. I put him in 
mind of a meaning of the word side, which he had omitted, 
viz., relationship; as father's side, mother's side. He in- 
serted it. I asked him if humiliating was a good word. He 
said, he had seen it frequently used, but he did not know it 
to be legitimate English. He would not admit civilization, 
but only civility. With great deference to him I thought 
civilization, from to civilize, better in the sense opposed to 
barbarity than civility; as it is better to have a distinct word 
for each sense, than one word with two senses, which civility 
is, in his way of using it. 

Dr. Johnson went home with me to my lodgings in Conduit- 
street and drank tea, previous to our going to the Pantheon, 
which neither of us had seen before. 

He said, " Goldsmith's Life of Parnell is poor; not that it is 
poorly written, but that he had poor materials; for nobody 
can write the life of a man, but those who have eat and drunk 
and lived in social intercourse with him." 

I said, that if it was not troublesome and presuming too 
much, I would request him to tell me all the little circum- 
stances of his life; what schools he attended, when he came to 
Oxford, when he came to London, &c. &c. He did not dis- 
approve of my curiosity as to these particulars, but said, 
"They'll come out by degrees, as we talk together." 

Fielding being mentioned, Johnson exclaimed, "He was a 

111 



112 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1772 

blockhead ;" and upon my expressing my astonishment at so 
strange an assertion, he said, "What I mean by his being a 
blockhead is, that he was a barren rascal.' ' Bos well. "Will 
you not allow, Sir, that he draws very natural pictures of 
human life?" Johnson. "Why, Sir, it is of very low life. 
Richardson used to say, that had he not known who Fielding 
was, he should have believed he was an ostler. Sir, there is 
more knowledge of the heart in one letter of Richardson's 
than in all Tom Jones. I, indeed, never read Joseph An- 
drews" Erskine. "Surely, Sir, Richardson is very tedious." 
Johnson. "Why, Sir, if you were to read Richardson for 
the story, your impatience would be so much fretted that you 
would hang yourself. But you must read him for the senti- 
ment, and consider the story as only giving occasion to the 
sentiment." — I have already given my opinion of Fielding; 
but I cannot refrain from repeating here my wonder at John- 
son's excessive and unaccountable depreciation of one of the 
best writers that England has produced. Tom Jones has 
stood the test of public opinion with such success, as to have 
established its great merit, both for the story, the sentiments, 
and the manners, and also the varieties of diction, so as to 
leave no doubt of its having an animated truth of execution 
throughout. 

On Thursday, April 9, I called on him to beg he would go 
and dine with me at the Mitre tavern. He had resolved not 
to dine at all this day, I know not for what reason ; and I was 
so unwilling to be deprived of his company, that I was content 
to submit to suffer a want, which was at first somewhat pain- 
ful, but he soon made me forget it; and a man is always 
pleased with himself, when he finds his intellectual inclinations 
predominate. 

Talking of ghosts, he said, he knew one friend, who was an 
honest man and a sensible man, who told him he had seen a 
ghost; old Mr. Edward Cave, the printer at St. John's 
Gate. He said, Mr. Cave did not like to talk of it, and 
seemed to be in great horror whenever it was mentioned. 
Bos well. "Pray, Sir, what did he say was the appearance?" 
Johnson. "Why, Sir, something of a shadowy being." 



Age 63] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 113 

On Friday, April 10, I dined with him at General Ogle- 
thorpe's, where we found Dr. Goldsmith. 

The General told us, that when he was a very young man, 
I think, only fifteen, serving under Prince Eugene of Savoy, 
he was sitting in a company at table with a Prince of Wlirtem- 
berg. The Prince took up a glass of wine, and, by a fillip, 
made some of it fly in Oglethorpe's face. Here was a nice 
dilemma. To have challenged him instantly might have 
fixed a quarrelsome character upon the young soldier: to 
have taken no notice of it might have been considered as 
cowardice. Oglethorpe, therefore, keeping his eye upon the 
Prince, and smiling all the time, as if he took what his High- 
ness had done in jest, said "Mon Prince — " (I forget the 
French words he used, the purport however was,) " that's a 
good joke: but we do it much better in England;" and threw 
a whole glass of wine in the Prince's face. An old General 
who sat by, said u Il a bienfait, mon Prince; vous Vavez com- 
mence: " l and thus all ended in good humor. 

Dr. Johnson said, "Pray, General, give us an account of the 
siege of Belgrade." Upon which the General, pouring a little 
wine upon the table, described everything with a wet finger: 
"Here we were, here were the Turks," &c. &c. Johnson 
listened with the closest attention. 

On Saturday, April 11, he appointed me to come to him in 
the evening. 

Of our friend Goldsmith he said, "Sir, he is so much afraid 
of being unnoticed, that he often talks merely lest you should 
forget that he is in the company." Boswell. "Yes, he 
stands forward." Johnson. "True, Sir; but if a man is to 
stand forward, he should wish to do it not in an awkward 
posture, not in rags, not so as that he shall only be exposed 
to ridicule." Boswell. "For my part, I like very well to 
hear honest Goldsmith talk away carelessly." Johnson. 
"Why yes, Sir; but he should not like to hear himself." 

I paid him short visits both on Friday and Saturday, and 
seeing his large folio Greek Testament before him, beheld him 
with a reverential awe, and would not intrude upon his time. 
1 He has acted properly, Prince; you started it. 



114 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1772 

While he was thus employed to such good purpose, and while 
his friends in their intercourse with him constantly found a 
vigorous intellect and a lively imagination, it is melancholy 
to read in his private register, "My mind is unsettled and my 
memory confused. I have of late turned my thoughts with a 
very useless earnestness upon past incidents. I have yet got 
no command over my thoughts; an unpleasing incident is 
almost certain to hinder my rest." What philosophic heroism 
was it in him to appear with such manly fortitude to the world, 
while he was inwardly so distressed! We may surely believe 
that the mysterious principle of being "made perfect through 
suffering," was to be strongly exemplified in him. 

While I remained in London this spring, I was with him at 
several other times, both by himself and in company. I 
dined with him one day at the Crown and Anchor tavern, in 
the Strand, with Lord Elibank, Mr. Langton, and Dr. Vansit- 
art of Oxford. Without specifying each particular day, I 
have preserved the following memorable things. 

I regretted the reflection in his Preface to Shakespeare 
against Garrick, to whom we cannot but apply the following 
passage: "I collated such copies as I could procure, and 
wished for more, but have not found the collectors of these 
rarities very communicative." I told him, that Garrick had 
complained to me of it, and had vindicated himself by assuring 
me, that Johnson was made welcome to the full use of his col- 
lection, and that he left the key of it with a servant, with 
orders to have a fire and every convenience for him. I found 
Johnson's notion was, that Garrick wanted to be courted for 
them, and that, on the contrary, Garrick should have courted 
him, and sent him the plays of his own accord. But, indeed, 
considering the slovenly and careless manner in which books 
were treated by Johnson, it could not be expected that scarce 
and valuable editions should have been lent to him. 

A gentleman having to some of the usual arguments for 
drinking added this: "You know, Sir, drinking drives away 
care, and makes us forget whatever is disagreeable. Would 
not you allow a man to drink for that reason?" Johnson. 
"Yes, Sir, if he sat next you." 



Age 64] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 115 

He would not allow Scotland to derive any credit from Lord 
Mansfield; for he was educated in England. "Much (said 
he,) may be made of a Scotchman, if he be caught young. " 

While a former edition of my work was passing through 
the press, I was unexpectedly favored with a packet from 
Philadelphia, from Mr. James Abercrombie, a gentleman of 
that country, who is pleased to honor me with very high 
praise of my Life of Dr. Johnson. To have the fame of my 
illustrious friend, and his faithful biographer, echoed from the 
New World is extremely flattering; and my grateful acknowl- 
edgments shall be wafted across the Atlantic. Mr. Aber- 
crombie has politely conferred on me a considerable additional 
obligation, by transmitting to me copies of two letters from 
Dr. Johnson to American gentlemen. " Gladly, Sir, (says he,) 
would I have sent you the originals ; but being the only relics 
of the kind in America, they are considered by the possessors 
of such inestimable value, that no possible consideration 
would induce them to part with them. In some future publi- 
cation of yours relative to that great and good man, they may 
perhaps be thought worthy of insertion." 

"To Mr. B -D/ 

"Sir, 

"That in the hurry of a sudden departure you should yet 
find leisure to consult my convenience, is a degree of kind- 
ness, and an instance of regard, not only beyond my claims, 
but above- my expectation. You are not mistaken in sup- 
posing that I set a high value on my American friends, and 
that you should confer a very valuable favor upon me by 
giving me an opportunity of keeping myself in their memory. 

"I have taken the liberty of troubling you with a packet, to 
which I wish a safe and speedy conveyance, because I wish a . 
safe and speedy voyage to him that conveys it. I am, Sir, 

"~ "Your most humble servant, 
"Sam. Johnson." 

"London, Johnson's-court, ' 

"Fleet-street, March 4, 1773." 



116 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1773 

11 To the Reverend Mr. White. 
"Dear Sir, 

"Your kindness for your friends accompanies you across 
the Atlantic. It was long since observed by Horace, that no 
ship could leave care behind : you have been attended in your 
voyage by other powers, — by benevolence and constancy: 
and I hope care did not often show her face in their company. 

"I received the copy of Rasselas. The impression is not 
magnificent, but it flatters an author, because the printer 
seems to have expected that it would be scattered among the 
people. The little book has been well received, and is trans- 
lated into Italian, French, German, and Dutch. It has now 
one honor more by an American edition. 

"I know not that much has happened since your departure 
that can engage your curiosity. Of all public transactions 
the whole world is now informed by the newspapers. Oppo- 
sition seems to despond ; and the dissenters, though they have 
taken advantage of unsettled times, and a government much 
enfeebled, seem not likely to gain any immunities. 

"Dr. Goldsmith has a new comedy in rehearsal at Co vent 
Garden, to which the manager predicts ill success. I hope he 
will be mistaken. I think it deserves a very kind reception. 

"I shall soon publish a new edition of my large Dictionary: 
I have been persuaded to revise it, and have mended some 
faults, but added little to its usefulness. 

"No book has been published since your departure of which 
much notice is taken. Faction only fills the town with 
pamphlets, and greater subjects are forgotten in the noise of 
discord. 

> "Thus have I written, only to tell you how little I have to 
tell. Of myself I can only add, that having been afflicted many 
weeks with a very troublesome cough, I am now recovered. 

"I take the liberty which you give me of troubling you 
with a letter, of which you will please to fill up the direction. 
I am, Sir, "Your most humble servant, 

"Sam. Johnson." 
"Johnson's-court, Fleet-street, 

London, March 4, 1773." 



Age 64] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 117 

At Mr. Thrale's, in the evening, he repeated his usual 
paradoxical declamation against action in public speaking. 
" Action can have no effect upon reasonable minds. It may 
augment noise, but it never can enforce argument. If you 
speak to a dog, you use action; you hold up your hand thus, 
because he is a brute; and in proportion as men are removed 
from brutes, action will have the less influence upon them." 
Mrs. Thrale. "What then, Sir, becomes of Demosthenes's 
saying? ' Action, action, action!'" Johnson. "Demos- 
thenes, Madam, spoke to an assembly of brutes; to a bar- 
barous people." 

I thought it extraordinary, that he should deny the power 
of rhetorical action upon human nature, when it is proved by 
innumerable facts in all stages of society. Reasonable beings 
are not solely reasonable. They have fancies which may be 
pleased, passions which may be roused. 

Lord Chesterfield being mentioned, Johnson remarked, 
that almost all of that celebrated nobleman's witty sayings 
were puns. He, however, allowed the merit of good wit to 
his Lordship's saying of Lord Tyrawiey and himself, when both 
very old and infirm: "Tyrawiey and I have been dead these 
two years; but we don't choose to have it known." 

To my great surprise he asked me to dine with him on 
Easterday. I never supposed that he had a dinner at his 
house; for I had not then heard of any one of his friends 
having been entertained at his table. He told me, "I have 
generally a meat-pie on Sunday : it is baked at a public oven, 
which is very properly allowed, because one man can attend 
it; and thus the advantage is obtained of not keeping servants 
from church to dress dinners." 

April 11, being Easter Sunday, after having attended divine 
Service at St. Paul's, I repaired to Dr. Johnson's. I had 
gratified my curiosity much in dining with Jean Jaques 
Rousseau, while he lived in the wilds of Neuf chatel : I had as 
great curiosity to dine with Dr. Samuel Johnson, in the dusky 
recess of a court in Fleet-street. I supposed we should 
scarcely have knives and forks, and only some strange, un- 
couth, ill-dressed dish: but I found everything in very good 



118 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1773 

order. We had no other company but Mrs. Williams and a 
young woman whom I did not know. As a dinner here was 
considered as a singular phenomenon, and as I was frequently 
interrogated on the subject, my readers may perhaps be 
desirous to know our byfl of fare. Foote, I remember, in 
allusion to Francis, the negro, was willing to suppose that our 
repast was black broth. But the fact was, that we had a very 
good soup, a boiled leg of lamb and spinach, a veal pie, and a 
rice pudding. 

I again solicited him to communicate to me the particulars 
of his early life. He said, "You shall have them all for two- 
pence. I hope you shall know a great deal more of me before 
you write my Life." He mentioned to me this day many 
circumstances, which I wrote down when I went home, and 
have interwoven in the former part of this narrative. 

Mr. Elphinston talked of a new book that was much 
admired, and asked Dr. Johnson if he had read it. Johnson. 
"I have looked into it." "What (said Elphinston,) have 
you not read it through?" Johnson, offended at being thus 
pressed, and so obliged to own his cursory mode of reading, 
answered tartly, "No, Sir; do you read books through?" 

He said, "Goldsmith should not be forever attempting to 
shine in conversation : he has not temper for it, he is so much 
mortified when he fails. Sir, a game of jokes is composed 
partly of skill, partly of chance, a man may be beat at times 
by one who has not the tenth part of his wit." 

Goldsmith, however, was often very fortunate in his witty 
contests, even when he entered the lists with Johnson him- 
self. Sir Joshua Reynolds was in company with them one 
day, when Goldsmith said, that he thought he could write a 
good fable, mentioned the simplicity which that kind of com- 
position requires, and observed, that in most fables the ani- 
mals introduced seldom talk in character. "For instance, 
(said he,) the fable of the little fishes, who saw birds fly over 
their heads, and envying them, petitioned Jupiter to be 
changed into birds. The skill (continued he,) consists in 
making them talk like little fishes." While he indulged him- 
self in this fanciful reverie, he observed Johnson shaking his 



Age 64] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 119 

sides, and laughing. Upon which he smartly proceeded. 
"Why, Dr Johnson, this is not so easy as you seem to think; 
for if you were to make little fishes talk they would talk like 
whales." 

On Friday, April 30, I dined with him at Mr. Beauclerk's, 
where were Lord Charlemont, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and some 
more members of the Literary Club, whom he had obligingly 
invited to meet me, as I was this evening to be ballotted for 
as candidate for admission into that distinguished society. 
Johnson had done me the honor to propose me, and Beauclerk 
was very zealous for me. 

Goldsmith being mentioned; Johnson. "It is amazing 
how little Goldsmith knows. He seldom comes where he is 
not more ignorant than any one else." Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
"Yet there is no man whose company is more liked." John- 
son. "To be sure, Sir. When people find a man of the most 
distinguished abilities as a writer their inferior while he is with 
them, it must be highly gratifying to them. What Gold- 
smith comically says of himself is very true, — he always 
gets the better when he argues alone; meaning, that he is 
master of a subject in his study, and can write well upon it; 
but when he comes into company, grows confused, and un- 
able to talk. Take him as a poet, his Traveller is a very fine 
performance; ay, and so is his Deserted Village, were it not 
sometimes too much the echo of his Traveller. Whether, 
indeed, we take him as a poet, — as a comic writer, — or as 
an historian, he stands in the first class." Boswell. "An 
historian! My dear Sir, you surely will not rank his com- 
pilation of the Roman History with the works of other 
historians of this age?" Johnson. "Why, who are before 
him? " Boswell. " Hume, — Robertson, — Lord Lyttel- 
ton." Johnson. (His antipathy to the Scotch beginning 
to rise.) "I have not read Hume; but, doubtless, Gold- 
smith's History is better than the verbiage of Robertson, or the 
foppery of Dalrymple." Boswell. "Will you not admit 
the superiority of Robertson, in whose History we find such 
penetration — such painting?" Johnson. "Sir, you must 
consider how that penetration and that painting are employed. 



120 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1773 

It is not history, it is imagination. He who describes what 
he never saw, draws from fancy. Robertson paints minds as 
Sir Joshua paints faces in a history piece: he imagines an 
heroic countenance. You must look upon Robertson's work 
as romance and try it by that standard. History it is not. 
Besides, Sir, it is the great excellence of a writer to put into 
his book as much as his book will hold. Goldsmith has done 
this in his History. Now Robertson might have put twice 
as much into his book. Robertson is like a man who has 
packed gold in wool; the wool takes up more room than the 
gold. No, Sir; I always thought Robertson would be 
crushed by his own weight, would be buried under his own 
ornaments. Goldsmith tells you shortly all you want to 
know: Robertson detains you a great deal too long. No 
man will read Robertson's cumbrous detail a second time; 
but Goldsmith's plain narrative will please again and again. 
I would say to Robertson what an old tutor of a college said 
to one of his pupils: 'Read over your compositions, and 
wherever you meet with a passage which you think is par- 
ticularly fine, strike it out.' Goldsmith's abridgment is 
better than that of Lucius Florus or Eutropius; and I will 
venture to say, that if you compare him with Vertot, in the 
same places of the Roman History, you will find that he excels 
Vertot. Sir, he has the art of compiling, and of saying every- 
thing he has to say in a pleasing manner. He is now writing 
a Natural History, and will make it as entertaining as a 
Persian Tale." 

I cannot dismiss the present topic without observing, that 
it is probable that Dr. Johnson, who owned that he often 
"talked for victory," rather urged plausible objections to Dr. 
Robertson's excellent historical works, in the ardor of con- 
test, than expressed his real and decided opinion; for it is not 
easy to suppose, that he should so widely differ from the rest 
of the literary world. 

The gentlemen went away to their club, and I was left at 
Beauclerk's till the fate of my election should be announced 
to me. I sat in a state of anxiety which even the charming 
conversation of Lady Di Beauclerk could not entirely dissi- 



Age 64] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 121 

pate. In a short time I received the agreeable intelligence 
that I was chosen. I hastened to the place of meeting and 
was introduced to such a society as can seldom be found: 
Mr. Edmund Burke, whom I then saw for the first time, and 
whose splendid talents had long made me ardently wish for 
his acquaintance; Dr. Nugent, Mr. Garrick, Dr. Goldsmith, 
Mr. (afterwards Sir William) Jones, and the company with 
whom I had dined. Upon my entrance, Johnson placed 
himself behind a chair, on which he leaned as on a desk or 
pulpit, and with humorous formality gave me a Charge, 
pointing out the conduct expected from me as a good member 
of this club. 

Qn Saturday, May 1, we dined by ourselves at our old 
rendezvous, the Mitre tavern. He was placid, but not much 
disposed to talk. He observed, that "the Irish mix better 
with the English than the Scotch do; their language is nearer 
to English; as a proof of which, they succeed very well as 
players, which Scotchmen do not. Then, Sir, they have not 
that extreme nationality which we find in the Scotch. I 
will do you, Bos well, the justice to say, that you are the most 
unscottified of your countrymen. You are almost the only 
instance of a Scotchman that I have known, who did not at 
every other sentence bring in some other Scotchman. " 

In our way to the club to-night, when I regretted that 
Goldsmith would, upon every occasion, endeavor to shine, by 
which he often exposed himself, Mr. Langton observed, that 
he was not like Addison, who was content with the fame of his 
writings, and did not aim also at excellency in conversation, 
for which he found himself unfit; and that he said to a lady 
who complained of his having talked little in company, 
"Madam, I have but nine-pence in ready money, but I can 
draw for a thousand pounds. " I observed that Goldsmith 
had a great deal of gold in his cabinet, but, not content with 
that, was always taking out his purse. Johnson. "Yes, 
Sir, and that so often an empty purse! " 

Goldsmith's incessant desire of being conspicuous in com- 
pany, was the occasion of his sometimes appearing to such 
disadvantage as one should hardly have supposed possible 



122 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1773 

in a man of his genius. When his literary reputation had 
risen deservedly high, and his society was much courted, he 
became very jealous of the extraordinary attention which was 
everywhere paid to Johnson. One evening, in a circle of 
wits, he found fault with me for talking of Johnson as entitled 
to the honor of unquestionable superiority. "Sir, (said he,) 
you are for making a monarchy of what should be a republic." 

He was still more mortified, when talking in a company 
w T ith fluent vivacity, and, as he flattered himself, to the ad- 
miration of all who were present, a German who sat next him, 
and perceived Johnson rolling himself, as if about to speak, 
suddenly stopped him, saying, "Stay, stay, — Toctor Shon- 
son is going to say something." This was, no doubt, very 
provoking, especially to one so irritable as Goldsmith, who 
frequently mentioned it with strong expressions of indigna- 
tion. 

It may also be observed, that Goldsmith was sometimes 
content to be treated with an easy familiarity, but upon 
occasions, would be consequential and important. An in- 
stance of this occurred in a small particular. Johnson had a 
way of contracting the names of his friends; as Beauclerk, 
Beau; Bos well, Bozzy; Langton, Lanky; Murphy, Mur; 
Sheridan, Sherry. I remember one day, when Tom Davies 
was telling that Dr. Johnson said, "We are all in labor for a 
name to Goldy's play," Goldsmith seemed displeased that 
such a liberty should be taken with his name, and said, "I 
have often desired him not to call me Goldy." Tom was 
remarkably attentive to the most minute circumstance about 
Johnson. I recollect his telling me once, on my arrival in 
London, "Sir, our great friend has made an improvement 
on his appelation of old Mr. Sheridan. He calls him now 
Sherry derry." 



CHAPTER IX (1773-1776) 
Johnson's Journeys to the Hebrides and France 

Johnson Agrees to Go to the Hebrides — His Stay in Scotland — - 
Return to London — Mrs. Boswell and Johnson — Johnson's Ac- 
count of the Tour — Boswell on England's Relations with America 

— The Altercation with Macpherson — - Johnson's Physical Courage 

— His Treatment of Offenders — The Journey to the Western Islands — 
Johnson's Taxation No Tyranny — Boswell's Criticism — Mr. 
Strahan's Apprentice — Johnson and the Seville Oranges — Johnson 
on Patriotism — ■ On Himself as Good-Humored — On The Spec- 
tator -- Johnson's Love of Merriment — His Charitableness — Let- 
ters to Boswell — The Tour to France — Johnson on French Cus- 
toms. 

In a letter from Edinburgh, dated the 29th of May, I 
pressed him to persevere in his resolution to make this year 
the projected visit to the Hebrides, of which he and I had 
talked for many years, and which I was confident would 
afford us much entertainment. 

" To James Boswell, Esq. 
" Dear Sir, 

"When your letter came to me, I was so darkened by an 
inflammation in my eye that I could not for some time read 
it. I can now write without trouble, and can read large 
prints. My eye is gradually growing stronger; and I hope 
will be able to take some delight in the survey of a Caledonian 
loch. 

"Chambers is going a Judge, with six thousand a year, to 
Bengal. He and I shall come down together as far as New- 
castle, and thence I shall easily get to Edinburgh. Let me 
know the exact time when your Courts intermit. I must 
conform a little to Chambers's occasions, and he must conform 
a little to mine. The time which you shall fix, must be the 
common point to which we will come as near as we can. Ex- 
cept this eye, I am very well. 

123 



124 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1773 

"Beattie is so caressed, and invited, and treated, and liked, 
and flattered, by the great, that I can see nothing of him. I 
am in great hope that he will be well provided for, and then 
we will live upon him at the Marischal College, without pity 
or modesty. 

" . . . left the town without taking leave of me, and is 
gone in deep dudgeon to ... . Is not this very childish? 
Where is now my legacy? 

"I hope your dear lady and her dear baby are both well. 
I shall see them too when I come; and I have that opinion of 
your choice, as to suspect that when I have seen Mrs. Bos- 
well, I shall be less willing to go away. 
"I am, dear Sir, 

"Your affectionate humble servant, 
"Sam. Johnson." 
"Johnson's-court, Fleet-street, 

u Juiy 5, ma." 

"Write to me as soon as you can. Chambers is now at 
Oxford." 

I again wrote to him, informing him that the Court of 
Session rose on the twelfth of August, hoping to see him 
before that time, and expressing, perhaps in too extravagant 
terms, my admiration of him, and my expectation of pleasure 
from our intended tour. 

" To James Boswell, Esq. 
"Dear Sir, 

"I shall set out from London on Friday the sixth of this 
month, and purpose not to loiter much by the way. Which 
day I shall be at Edinburgh, I cannot exactly tell. I suppose 
I must drive to an inn, and send a porter to find you. 

" I am afraid Beattie will not be at his College soon enough 
for us, and I shall be sorry to miss him; but there is no stay- 
ing for the concurrence of all conveniences. We will do as 
well as we can. I am, Sir, 

" Your most humble servant, 
"Sam. Johnson." 
"August 3, 1773." 



Age 64] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 125 

To the Same. 
11 Dear Sir, 

"Not being at Mr. Thrale's when your letter came, I had 
written the enclosed paper and sealed it; bringing it hither 
for a frank, I found yours. If anything could repress my 
ardor, it would be such a letter as yours. To disappoint a 
friend is unpleasing: and he that forms expectations like 
yours, must be disappointed. Think only when you see me, 
that you see a man who loves you, and is proud and glad that 
you love him. I am, Sir, 

"Your most affectionate, 
"August 3, 1773." "Sam. Johnson." 

His stay in Scotland was from the 18th of August, on which 
day he arrived, till the 22d of November, when he set out on 
his return to London; and I believe ninety-four days were 
never passed by any man in a more vigorous exertion. 

He came by the way of Berwick upon Tweed to Edinburgh, 
where he remained a few days, and then went by St. Andrews, 
Aberdeen, Inverness, and Fort Augustus, to the Hebrides, to 
visit which was the principal object he had in view. He 
visited the isles of Skye, Rasay, Coll, Mull, Inchkenneth, and 
Icolmkill. He travelled through Argyleshire by Inveraray, 
and from thence by Lochlomond and Dumbarton to Glasgow, 
then by London to Auchinleck in Ayrshire, the seat of my 
family, and then by Hamilton, back to Edinburgh, where he 
again spent some time. He thus saw the four Universities 
of Scotland, its three principal cities, and as much of the 
Highland and insular life as was sufficient for his philosophical 
contemplation. I had the pleasure of accompanying him 
during the whole of his journey. He was respectfully enter- 
tained by the great, the learned, and the elegant, wherever 
he went; nor was he less delighted with the hospitality which 
he experienced in humbler life. 

His various adventures, and the force and vivacity of his 
mind, as exercised during this peregrination, upon innumer- 
able topics, have been faithfully, and to the best of my abili- 
ties, displayed in my Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, to 



126 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1773 

which, as the public has been pleased to honor it by a very 
extensive circulation, I beg leave to refer, as to a separate 
and remarkable portion of his life, which may be there seen 
in detail, and which exhibits as striking a view of his powers 
in conversation, as his works do of his excellence in writing. 
During his stay at Edinburgh, after his return from the 
Hebrides, he was at great pains to obtain information con- 
cerning Scotland; and it will appear from his subsequent 
letters, that he was not less solicitous for intelligence on this 
subject after his return to London. 

" To James Boswell, Esq. 
"Dear Sir, 

"I came home last night, without any incommodity, danger, 
or weariness, and am ready to begin a new journey. I shall 
go to Oxford on Monday. I know Mrs. Boswell wished me 
well to go; her wishes have not been disappointed. 1 Mrs. 
Williams has received Sir A.'s letter. 

"Make my compliments to all those to whom my compli- 
ments may be welcome. 

"Let the box be sent as soon as it can, and let me know 
when to expect it. 

"Enquire, if you can, the order of the Clans: Macdonald 
is first, Maclean second; further I cannot go. Quicken Dr. 
Webster. "I am, Sir, 

"Yours affectionately, 
"November 27, 1773." "Sam. Johnson." 

1 In this he showed a very acute penetration. My wife paid him 
the most assiduous and respectful attention, while he was our guest; 
so that I wonder how he discovered her wishing for his departure. 
The truth is, that his irregular hours and uncouth habits, such as 
turning the candles with their heads downward, when they did not 
burn bright enough, and letting the wax drop upon the carpet, could 
not but be disagreeable to a lady. Besides, she had not that high 
admiration of him which was felt by most of those who knew him; 
and what was very natural to a female mind, she thought he had too 
much influence over her husband. She once in a little warmth 
made, with more point than justice, this remark upon that subject: 
"I have seen many a bear led by a man; but I never before saw a 
man led by a bear." 



Age 66] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 127 

" To James Boswell, Esq. 
" Dear Sir, 

"I long to hear how you like the book; 1 it is, I think, much 
liked here. But Macpherson is very furious; can you give 
me any more intelligence about him, or his Fingal? Do what 
you can, and do it quickly. Is Lord Hailes on our side? 

"Pray let me know what I owed you when I left you, that 
I may send it to you. 

"lam going to write about the Americans. If you have 
picked up any hints among your lawyers, who are great 
masters of the law of nations, or if your own mind suggest 
anything, let me know. But mum, it is a secret. 

"I .will send your parcel of books as soon as I can; but I 
cannot do as I wish. However, you find everything men- 
tioned in the book which you recommended. 

"Langton is here; we are all that ever we were. He is a 
worthy fellow, without malice, though not without resentment. 

"Poor Beauclerk is so ill, that his life is thought to be in 
danger. Lady Di nurses him with very great assiduity. 

" Reynolds has taken top much to strong liquor, and seems 
to delight in his new character. 

"This is all the news that I have; but as you love verses, 
I will send you a few which I made upon Inchkenneth; but 
remember the condition, you shall not show them, except to 
Lord Hailes, whom I love better than any man whom I 
know so little. If he asks you to transcribe them for him, 
you may do it, but I think he must promise not to let them be 
copied again, nor to show them as mine. 

"I have at last sent back Lord Hailes's sheets. I never 
think about returning them, because I alter nothing. You 
will see that I might as well have kept them. However, I 
am ashamed of my delay; and if I have the honor of receiving 
any more, promise punctually to return them by the next 
post. Make my compliments to dear Mrs. Boswell, and to 
Miss Veronica. I am, dear Sir, 

"Yours most faithfully, 
"Jan. 1, 1775." "Sam. Johnson." 

1 Johnson's Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland. 



128 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1775 

"Mr. Boswell to Dr. Johnson. 

"Edinburgh, Jan. 27, 1775. 

"... You rate our lawyers here too high, when you 
call them great masters of the law of nations. . . . 

"As for myself, I am ashamed to say I have read little and 
thought little on the subject of America. I will be much 
obliged to you, if you will direct me where I shall find the 
best information of what is to be said on both sides. It is 
a subject vast in its present extent and future consequences. 
The imperfect hints which now float in my mind tend rather 
to the formation of an opinion that our government has been 
precipitant and severe in the resolutions taken against the 
Bostonians. Well do you know that I have no kindness for 
that race. But nations, or bodies of men, should, as well as 
individuals, have a fair trial, and not be condemned on 
character alone. Have we not express contracts with our 
colonies, which afford a more certain foundation of judgment 
than general political speculations on the mutual rights of 
States and their provinces or colonies? Pray let me know 
immediately what to read, and I shall diligently endeavor to 
gather for you anything that I can find. Is Burke's speech 
on American taxation published by himself? Is it authentic? 
I remember to have heard you say, that you had never con- 
sidered East Indian affairs: though, surely, they are of much 
importance to Great Britain. Under the recollection of this, 
I shelter myself from the reproach of ignorance about the 
Americans. If you write upon the subject, I shall certainly 
understand it. But, since you seem to expect that I should 
know something of it, without your instruction, and that 
my own mind should suggest something, I trust you will put 
me in the way." 

What words were used by Mr. Macpherson in his letter to 
the venerable Sage, I have never heard; but they are gener- 
ally said to have been of a nature very different from the 
language of literary contest. Dr. Johnson's answer appeared 
in the newspapers of the day, and has since been frequently 
republished; but not with perfect accuracy. I give it as 
dictated to me by himself, written down in his presence, and 



Age 66] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 129 

authenticated by a note in his own handwriting, "This, I 
think, is a trite copy." 

"Mr. James Macpherson, 

" I received your foolish and impudent letter. Any violence 
offered me I shall do my best to repel; and what I cannot do 
for myself, the law shall do for me. I hope I shall never be 
deterred from detecting what I think a cheat, by the menaces 
of a ruffian. 

"What would you have me retract? I thought your book 
an imposture; I think it an imposture still. For this opinion 
I have given my reasons to the public, which I here dare you 
to refute. Your rage I defy. Your abilities, since your 
Homer, are not so formidable; and what I hear of your 
morals inclines me to pay regard not to what you shall say, 
but to what you shall prove. You may print this if you will. 
"Sam. Johnson." 

Mr. Macpherson little knew the character of Dr. Johnson, 
if he supposed that he could be easily intimidated; for no 
man was ever more remarkable for personal courage. He 
had, indeed, an awful dread of death, or rather, "of some- 
thing after death; " and what rational man, who seriously 
thinks of quitting all that he has ever known, and going into a 
new and unknown state of being, can be without that dread? 
But his fear was from reflection; his courage natural. His 
fear, in that one instance, was the result of philosophical and 
religious consideration. He feared death, but he feared 
nothing else, not even what might occasion death. Many 
instances of his resolution may be mentioned. One day, at 
Mr. Beauclerk's house in the country, when two large dogs 
were fighting, he went up to them, and beat them till they 
separated; and at another time, when told of the danger 
there was that a gun might burst if charged with many balls, 
he put in six or seven and fired it off against a wall. Mr. 
Langton told me, that when they were swimming together 
near Oxford, he cautioned Dr. Johnson against a pool, which 
was reckoned particularly dangerous; upon which Johnson 
directly swam into it. He told me himself that one night he 



130 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1775 

was attacked in the street by four men, to whom he would not 
yield, but kept them all at bay, till the watch came up, and 
carried both him and them to the round house. In the play- 
house at Lichfield, as Mr. Garrick informed me, Johnson 
having for a. moment quitted a chair which was placed for 
him between the side scenes, a gentleman took possession of it, 
and when Johnson on his return civilly demanded his seat, 
rudely refused to give it up; upon which Johnson laid hold of 
it, and tossed him and the chair into the pit. Foote, who so 
successfully revived the old comedy, by exhibiting living 
characters, had resolved to imitate Johnson on the stage, 
expecting great profits from his ridicule of so celebrated a 
man. Johnson being informed of his intention, and being at 
dinner at Mr. Thomas Davies's the bookseller, from whom I 
had the story, he asked Mr. Davies "what was the common 
price of an oak stick; " and being answered six-pence, "Why, 
then, Sir, (said he,) give me leave to send your servant to 
purchase me a shilling one. I'll have a double quantity; for 
I am told Foote means to take me off, as he calls it, and I am 
determined the fellow shall not do it with impunity." Davies 
took care to acquaint Foote of this, which effectually checked 
the wantonness of the mimic. Mr. Macpherson's menaces 
made Johnson provide himself with the same implement of 
defence; and had he been attacked, I have no doubt #iat, 
old as he was, he would have made his corporal prowess be 
felt as much as his intellectual. 

His Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland is a 
most valuable performance. It abounds in extensive phil- 
osophical views of society, and in ingenious sentiment and 
lively description. A considerable part of it, indeed, consists 
of speculations, which many years before he saw the wild 
regions which we visited together, probably had employed 
his attention, though the actual sight of those scenes un- 
doubtedly quickened and augmented them. Mr. Orme, the 
very able historian, agreed with me in this opinion, which he 
thus strongly expressed: — "There are in that book thoughts, 
which, by long revolution in the great mind of Johnson, have 
been formed and polished like pebbles rolled in the oceali!" 




DR. JOHNSON IN HIS TRAVELLING DRESS 



Age 66] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON" 131 

That he was to some degree of excess a true-born English- 
man, so as to have entertained an undue prejudice against 
both the country and the people of Scotland, must be allowed. 
But it was a prejudice of the head and not of the heart. He 
had no ill will to the Scotch ; for, if he had been conscious of 
that he never would have thrown himself into the bosom of 
their country, and trusted to the protection of its remote in- 
habitants with a fearless confidence. His remark upon the 
nakedness of the country, from its being denuded of trees, was 
made after having travelled two hundred miles along the 
Eastern coast, where certainly trees are not to be found near 
the road; and he said it was "a map of the road" which he 
gave. His disbelief of the authenticity of the poems ascribed 
to Ossian, a Highland bard, was confirmed in the course of 
his journey, by a very strict examination of the evidence 
offered for it; and although their authenticity was made too 
much a national point by the Scotch, there were many re- 
spectable persons in that country, who did not concur in 
this: so that his judgment upon the question ought not to be 
decried, even by those who differ from him. 

The doubts which, in my correspondence with him, I had 
ventured to state as to the justice and wisdom of the conduct 
of Great Britain towards the American colonies, while I at 
the same time requested that he would enable me to inform 
myself upon that momentous subject, he had altogether dis- 
regarded; and had recently published a pamphlet, entitled 
Taxation no Tyranny; an answer to the Resolutions and 
Address of the American Congress. 

He had long before indulged most unfavorable sentiments 
of our fellow subjects in America. For, as early as 1769, I 
was told by Dr. John Campbell, that he had said of them, 
"Sir, they are a race of convicts, and ought to be thankful 
for anything we allow them short of hanging/ ' 

Of this performance I avoided to talk with him; for I had 
now formed a clear and settled opinion, that the people of 
America were well warranted to resist a claim that their 
fellow-subjects in the mother country should have the entire 
command of their fortunes, by taxing them without their 



132 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1775 

own consent; and the extreme violence which it breathed 
appeared to me so unsuitable to the mildness of a Christian 
philosopher, and so directly opposite to the principles of 
peace which he had so beautifully recommended in his pam- 
phlet respecting Falkland's Islands, that I was sorry to see 
him appear in so unfavorable a light. Besides, I could not 
perceive in it that ability of argument, or that felicity of 
expression, for which he was, upon other occasions, so emi- 
nent. Positive assertion, sarcastical severity, and extrava- 
gant ridicule, which he himself reprobated as a test of truth, 
were united in this rhapsody. 

That this pamphlet was written at the desire of those who 
were then in power, I have no doubt; and, indeed, he owned 
to me, that it had been revised and curtailed by some of them. 
He told me, that they had struck out one passage, which was 
to this effect: "That the Colonists could with no solidity 
argue from their not having been taxed while in their infancy, 
that they should not now be taxed. We do not put a calf 
into the plow; we wait till he is an ox." He said, "They 
struck it out either critically as too ludicrous, or politically 
as too exasperating. I care not which. It was their business. 
If an architect says, I will build five stories, and the man who 
employs him says, I will have only three, the employer is 
to decide." "Yes, Sir, (said I,) in ordinary cases. But should 
it be so when the architect gives his skill and labor gratis!" 

On Monday, March 27, I breakfasted with him at Mr. 
Strahan's. Mr. Strahan had taken a poor boy from the 
country as an apprentice, upon Johnson's recommendation. 
Johnson having enquired after him, said, "Mr. Strahan, let 
me have five guineas on account, and FU give this boy one. 
Nay, if a man recommends a boy, and does nothing for him, 
it is sad w r ork. Call him down." 

I followed him into the court-yard, behind Mr. Strahan's 
house ; and there I had a proof of what I had heard him pro- 
fess, that he talked alike to all. "Some people tell you that 
they let themselves down to the capacity of their hearers. I 
never do that. I speak uniformly, in as intelligible a manner 
as I can." 



Age 66] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 133 

"Well, my boy, how do you go on?" — " Pretty well, Sir; 
but they are afraid I an't strong enough for some parts of the 
business." Johnson. "Why, I shall be sorry for it, for 
when you consider with how little mental power and corporeal 
labor a printer can get a guinea a week, it is a very desirable 
occupation for you. Do you hear — take all the pains you 
can; and if this does not do, we must think of some other way 
of life for you. There's a guinea." 

Here was one of the many, many instances of his active 
benevolence. At the same time, the slow and sonorous 
solemnity with which, while be bent himself down, he ad- 
dressed a little thick short-legged boy, contrasted with the 
boy's awkwardness and awe, could not but excite some 
ludicrous emotions. 

I cannot too frequently request of my readers, while they 
peruse my account of Johnson's conversation, to endeavor 
to keep in mind his deliberate and strong utterance. His 
mode of speaking was indeed very impressive; and I wish it 
could be preserved as music is written, according to the very 
ingenious method of Mr. Steele, who has shown how the 
recitation of Mr. Garrick, and other eminent speakers, might 
be transmitted to posterity in score. 

On Friday, March 31, I supped with him and some friends 
at a tavern. One of the company attempted, with too much 
forwardness, to rally him on his late appearance at the theatre; 
but had reason to repent of his temerity. "Why, Sir, did 
you go to Mrs. Abington's benefit? Did you see?" Johnson. 
"No, Sir." "Did you hear?" Johnson. "No, Sir." "Why 
then, Sir, did you go?" Johnson. "Because, Sir, she is a fa- 
vorite of the public; and when the public cares the thousandth 
part for you that it does for her, I will go to your benefit too." 

Next morning I won a small bet from Lady Diana Beau- 
clerk, by asking him as to one of his particularities, which her 
Ladyship laid I durst not do. It seems he had been fre- 
quently observed at the club to put into his pocket the Seville 
oranges, after he had squeezed the juice of them into the drink 
which he made for himself. Beauclerk and Garrick talked 
of it to me, and seemed to think that he had a strange uu- 



134 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1775 

willingness to be discovered. We could not divine what he 
did with them ; and this was the bold question to be put. I 
saw on his table the spoils of the preceding night, some fresh 
peels nicely scraped and cut into pieces. "0, Sir, (said I,) I 
now partly see what you do with the squeezed oranges which 
you put into your pocket at the Club." Johnson. "I have a 
great love for them." Bos well. "And pray, Sir, what do 
you do with them? You scrape them it seems, very neatly, 
and what next?" Johnson. "Let them dry, Sir." Bos- 
well. "And what next?" Johnson. "Nay, Sir, you shall 
know their fate no further." Boswell. "Then the world 
must be left in the dark. It must be said (assuming a mock 
solemnity,) he scraped them and let them dry, but what he 
did with them next, he never could be prevailed upon to tell." 
Johnson. " Nay, Sir, you should say it more emphatically : — 
he could not be prevailed upon, even by his dearest friends, 
to tell." 

I talked of the cheerfulness of Fleet-street, owing to the 
constant quick succession of people which we perceive passing 
through it. Johnson. "Why, Sir, Fleet-street has a very 
animated appearance; but I think the full tide of human 
existence is at Charing Cross." 

Friday, April 7, I dined with him at a Tavern, with a 
numerous company. Patriotism having become one of our 
topics, Johnson suddenly uttered, in a strong determined 
tone, an apophthegm, at which many will start: "Patriotism 
is the last refuge of a scoundrel." But let it be considered, 
that he did not mean a real and generous love of our country, 
but that pretended patriotism which so many, in all ages and 
countries, have made a cloak for self-interest. I maintained, 
that certainly all patriots were not scoundrels. Being urged, 
(not by Johnson) to name one exception, I mentioned an 
eminent person, whom we all greatly admired. Johnson. 
"Sir, I do not say that he is not honest; but we have no reason 
to conclude from his political conduct that he is honest. 
Were he to accept a place from this ministry he would lose 
that character of firmness which he has, and might be turned 
out of his place in a year." 



Age 66] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 135 

On Tuesday, April 18, he and I were engaged to go with 
Sir Joshua Reynolds to dine with Mr. Cambridge, at his 
beautiful villa on the banks of the Thames, near Twickenham. 
Dr. Johnson's tardiness was such, that Sir Joshua, who had 
an appointment at Richmond, early in the day, was obliged 
to go by himself on horseback, leaving his coach to Johnson 
and me. Johnson was in such good spirits, that everything 
seemed to please him as we drove along. 

As a curious instance how little a man knows, or wishes to 
know his own character in the world, or, rather as a convincing 
proof that Johnson's roughness was only external, and did not 
proceed from his heart, I insert the following dialogue. John- 
son. "It is wonderful, Sir, how rare a quality good humor is 
in life. We meet with very few good-humored men." I men- 
tioned four of our friends, none of whom he would allow to be 
good-humored. One was acid, another was muddy, and to 
the others he had objections which have escaped me. Then, 
shaking his head and stretching himself at ease in the coach, 
and smiling with much complacency, he turned to me and 
said, "I look upon myself as a good-humored fellow." The 
epithet fellow, applied to the great Lexicographer, the stately 
Moralist, the Masterly Critic, as if he had been Sam Johnson, 
a mere pleasant companion, was highly diverting; and this 
light notion of himself struck me with wonder. I answered, 
also smiling, "No, no, Sir; that will not do. You are good- 
natured, but not good-humored: you are irascible. You 
have not patience with folly and absurdity. I believe you 
would pardon them, if there were time to deprecate your 
vengeance; but punishment follows so quick after sentence, 
that they cannot escape." 

Johnson praised The Spectator, particularly the character 
cf Sir Roger de Coverley. He said, "Sir Roger did not die a 
violent death, as has been generally fancied. He was not 
killed; he died only because others were to die, and because 
his death afforded an opportunity to Addison for some very 
fine writing. We have the example of Cervantes making 
Don Quixote die. I never could see why Sir Roger is repre- 
sented as a little cracked. It appears to me that the story of 



136 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1775 

the widow was intended to have something superinduced 
upon it; but the superstructure did not come." 

I passed many hours with him on the 17th, of which I find 
all my memorial is, "much laughing." It should seem he 
had that day been in a humor for jocularity and merri- 
ment, and upon such occasions I never knew a man laugh 
more heartily. We may suppose, that the high relish of a 
state so different from his habitual gloom produced more 
than ordinary exertions of that distinguishing faculty of man, 
which has puzzled philosophers so much to explain. John- 
son's laugh was as remarkable as any circumstance in his 
manner. It was a kind of good-humored growl. Tom 
Davies described it drolly enough: "He laughs like a 
rhinoceros." 

" To Bennet Langton, Esq. 
"Dear Sir, 

"I have an old amanuensis in great distress. I have given 
what I think I can give, and begged till I cannot tell where to 
beg again. I put into his hand this morning four guineas. 
If you could collect three guineas more, it would clear him 
from his present difficulty. I am, Sir, 

"Your most humble servant, 
"Sam. Johnson." 
11 May 21, 1775." 

" To James Boswell, Esq. 
"Dear Sir, 

"I make no doubt but you are now safely lodged in your 
own habitation, and have told all your adventures to Mrs. 
Boswell and Miss Veronica. Pray teach Veronica to love me. 
Bid her not mind mamma. 

"Mrs. Thrale has taken cold, and been very much dis- 
ordered, but I hope is grown well. Mr. Langton went yester- 
day to Lincolnshire, and has invited Nicolaida to follow him. 
Beauclerk talks of going to Bath. I am to set out on Monday; 
so there is nothing but dispersion. 

"I have returned Lord Hailes's entertaining sheets, but 



Age 66] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 137 

must stay till I come back for more, because it will be incon- 
venient to send them after me in my vagrant state. 

"I promised Mrs. Macaulay that I would try to serve her 
son at Oxford. I have not forgotten it, nor am unwilling to 
perform it. If they desire to give him an English education, 
it should be considered whether they cannot send him for a 
year or two to an English school. If he comes immediately 
from Scotland, he can make no figure in our Universities. 
The schools in the north, I believe, are cheap; and when I 
was a young man, were eminently good. 

" There are two little books published by the Foulis, Tele- 
machus and Collins's Poems, each a shilling; I would be glad 
to have them. 

"Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell, though she does 
not love me. You see what perverse things ladies are, and 
how little to be trusted with feudal estates. When she mends 
and loves me, there may be more hope of her daughters. 

"I will not send compliments to my friends by name, be- 
cause I would be loath to leave any out in the enumeration. 
Tell them, as 3^ou see them, how well I speak of Scotch 
politeness, and Scotch hospitality, and Scotch beauty, and of 
every thing Scotch, but Scotch oat-cakes, and Scotch prej- 
udices. 

"Let me know the answer of Rasay, and the decision re- 
lating to Sir Allan. I am, my dearest Sir, with great affec- 
tion, 

"Your most obliged and 

"Most humble servant, 
"May 27, 1775." "Sam. Johnson." 

" To James Boswell, Esq. 
11 My dear Sir, 

"I now write to you, lest in some of your freaks and hu- 
mors you should fancy yourself neglected. Such fancies I 
must entreat you never to admit, at least never to indulge; 
for my regard for you is so radicated and fixed, that it is be- 
come part of my mind and cannot be effaced but by some 
cause uncommonly violent; therefore, whether I write or not, 



138 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1775 

set your thoughts at rest. I now write to tell you that I shall 
not very soon write again, for I am to set out to-morrow on 
another journey. 

"Your friends are all well at Streatham, and in Leicester- 
fields. Make my compliments to Mrs. Boswell, if she is in 
good humor with me. 

"I am, Sir, &c. 

"Sam. Johnson." 
"September 14, 1775." 

What he mentions in such light terms as, "I am to set out 
to-morrow on another journey/' I soon afterwards discovered 
was no less than a tour to France with Mr. and Mrs. Thrale. 
This was the only time in his life that he went upon the 
Continent. 

When I met him in London the following year, the account 
which he gave me of his French tour, was, "Sir, I have seen 
all the visibilities of Paris, and around it; but to have formed 
an acquaintance with the people there would have required 
more time than I could stay." 

He observed, "The great in France live very magnificently, 
but the rest very miserably. There is no happy middle state 
as in England. The shops of Paris are mean ; the meat in the 
markets is such as would be sent to a gaol in England; and 
Mr. Thrale justly observed, that the cookery of the French 
was forced upon them by necessity; for they could not eat 
their meat, unless they added some taste to it. The French 
are an indelicate people; they will spit upon any place. At 

Madam 's, a literary lady of rank, the footman took 

the sugar in his fingers, and threw it into my coffee. I was 
going to put it aside ; but hearing it was made on purpose for 
me, I e'en tasted Tom's fingers. The same lady would needs 
make tea a VAnglaise. The spout of the tea-pot did not pour 
freely; she bade the footman blow into it. France is worse 
than Scotland in everything but climate. Nature has done 
more for the French; but they have done less for themselves 
than the Scotch have done." 

Here let me not forget a curious anecdote, as related to me 



Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 139 

by Mr. Beauclerk, which I shall endeavor to exhibit as well as 
I can in that gentleman's lively manner; and in justice to 
him it is proper to add, that Dr. Johnson told me I might rely 
both on the correctness of his memory and the fidelity of his 
narrative. " When Madame de Boufflers was first in England, 
(said Beauclerk,) she was desirous to see Johnson. I accord- 
ingly went with her to his chambers in the Temple, where she 
was entertained with his conversation for some time. When 
our visit was over, she and I left him, and were got into Inner 
Temple-lane, when all at once I heard a noise like thunder. 
This was occasioned by Johnson, w T ho it seems, upon a little 
recollection, had taken it into his head that he ought to have 
done the honors of his literary residence to a foreign lady of 
quality, and eager to show himself a man of gallantry, was 
hurrying down the stair-case in violent agitation. He over- 
took us before we reached the Temple gate, and brushing in 
between me and Madame de Boufflers, seized her hand, and 
conducted her to her coach. His dress was a rusty brown 
morning-suit, a pair of old shoes by way of slippers, a little 
shrivelled wig sticking on the top of his head, and the sleeves 
of his shirt and the knees of his breeches hanging loose. A 
considerable crowd of people gathered round, and were not a 
little struck by this singular appearance/' 



CHAPTER X (1776) 

Johnson on Tour and in London: His Meeting 
With Wilkes 

Johnson's Removal — Johnson on Life at Sea — On Extraordi- 
nary Characters — On the Felicities of Taverns — At Birmingham 
— Boswell on the Use of Oats — The Wide Circle of Johnson's 
Acquaintances — Johnson on Thomson — On the Use of Wine — 
On his Rambler Papers — On Reading — Boswell Endeavors to 
Bring Johnson and John Wilkes Together — Sudden Obstacles — 
The Meeting of the Great Conservative and the Great Radical — 
Mr. Wilkes is Polite at Dinner — Johnson Unbends and Talks — 
On Foote — On Garrick — On Writing Biographies — On Cibber — 
On the Scotch — Dr. Johnson's Civility and Courtesy. 

Having arrived in London late on Friday, the 15th of 
March, I hastened next morning to wait on Dr. Johnson, 
at his house; but found he was removed from Johnson's- 
court, No. 7, to Bolt-court, No. 8, still keeping to his favorite 
Fleet-street. My reflection at the time upon this change 
as marked in my journal is as follows: "I felt a foolish regret 
that he had left a court which bore his name; but it was not 
foolish to be affected with some tenderness of regard for a 
place in which I had seen him a great deal, from whence 
I had often issued a better and a happier man than when I 
went in, and which had often appeared to my imagination 
while I trod its pavements, in the solemn darkness of the 
night, to be sacred to wisdom and piety." Being informed 
that he was at Mr. Thrale's in the Borough, I hastened 
thither, and found Mrs. Thrale and him at breakfast. I was 
kindly welcomed. In a moment he was in a full glow of 
conversation, and I felt myself elevated as if brought into 
another state of being. Mrs. Thrale and I looked to each 
other while he talked, and our looks expressed our congenial 
admiration and affection for him. I shall ever recollect this 
scene with great pleasure. I exclaimed to her, "I am now 
intellectually, Hermippus redivivus, I am quite restored by 

140 



Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 141 

him, by transfusion of mind." " There are many (she re- 
plied,) who admire and respect Mr. Johnson; but you and I 
love him." 

He seemed very happy in the near prospect of going to 
Italy with Mr. and Mrs. Thrale. "But, (said he,) before 
leaving England I am to take a jaunt to Oxford, Birmingham, 
my native city Lichfield, and my old friend, Dr. Taylor's, 
at Ashbourne, in Derbyshire. I shall go in a few days, and 
you, Bos well, shall go with me." I was ready to accompany 
him ; being willing even to leave London to have the pleasure 
of his conversation. 

I again visited him on Monday. He took occasion to en- 
large, as he often did, upon the wretchedness of a sea life. 
"A ship is worse than a gaol. There is, in a gaol, better 
air, better company, better conveniency of every kind; 
and a ship has the additional disadvantage of being in danger. 
When men come to like a sea life, they are not fit to live on 
land." — "Then (said I,) it would be cruel in a father to 
breed his son to the sea." Johnson. "It would be cruel 
in a father who thinks as I do. Men go to sea, before they 
know the unhappiness of that way of life; and when they 
have come to know it, they cannot escape from it, because 
it is then too late to choose another profession; as indeed is 
generally the case with men when they have once engaged 
in any particular way of life." 

On Tuesday, March 19, which was fixed for one proposed 
jaunt, we met in the morning at the Somerset coffee-house 
in the Strand, where we were taken up by the Oxford coach. 
I expressed a des : re to be acquainted with a lady who had 
been much talked of, and universally celebrated for extraor- 
dinary address and insinuation. Johnson. "Never believe 
extraordinary characters which you hear of people. Depend 
upon it, Sir, they are exaggerated. You do not see one 
man shoot a great deal higher than another." I mentioned 
Mr. Burke. Johnson. "Yes; Burke is an extraordinary 
man. His stream of mind is perpetual," It is very pleasing 
to me to record, that Johnson's high estimation of the talents 
of this gentleman was uniform from their early acquaintance. 



142 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1776 

Sir Joshua Reynolds informs me, that when Mr. Burke was 
first elected a member of Parliament, and Sir John Hawkins 
expressed a wonder at his attaining a seat, Johnson said, 
"Now we who know Mr. Burke, know, that he will be one 
of the first men in the country." And once, when Johnson 
was ill, and unable to exert himself as much as usual without 
fatigue, Mr. Burke having been mentioned, he said, "That 
fellow calls forth all my powers. Were I to see Burke now 
it would kill me." So much was he accustomed to consider 
conversation as a contest, and such was his notion of Burke 
as an opponent. 

We dined at an excellent inn at Chapel House, where he 
expatiated on the felicity of England in its taverns and inns, 
and triumphed over the French for not having, in any per- 
fection, the tavern life. "There is no private house, (said 
he,) in which people can enjoy themselves so well, as at a 
capital tavern. Let there be ever so great plenty of good 
things, ever so much grandeur, ever so much elegance, ever 
so much desire that everybody should be easy; in the nature 
of things it cannot be: there must always be some degree of 
care and anxiety. The master of the house is anxious to 
entertain his guests; the guests are anxious to be agreeable 
to him; and no man, but a very impudent dog indeed, can 
as freely command what is in another man's house, as if it 
were his own. Whereas, at a tavern, there is a general 
freedom from anxiety. You are sure you are welcome: 
and the more noise you make, the more trouble you give, 
the more good things you call for, the welcomer you are. 
No servants will attend you with the alacrity which waiters 
do, who are incited by the prospect of an immediate reward 
in proportion as they please. No, Sir; there is nothing 
which has yet been contrived by man, by which so much 
happiness is produced as by a good tavern or inn." He then 
repeated, with great emotion, Shenstone's lines: 

"Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round, 
Where'er his stages may have been, 
May sigh to think he still has found 
The warmest welcome at an inn:'" 



Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 143 

I wished to have stayed at Birmingham to-night, to have 
talked more with Mr. Hector; but my friend was impatient 
to reach his native city; so we drove on that stage in the dark, 
and were long pensive and silent. When we came within 
the focus of the Lichfield lamps, "Now (said he,) we are 
getting out of a state of death.'' We put up at the Three 
Crowns, not one of the great inns, but a good old-fashioned 
one, which was kept by Mr. Wilkins, and was the very next 
house to that in which Johnson was born and brought up, 
and which was still his own property. We had a comfort- 
able supper, and got into high spirits. I felt all my Toryism 
glow in this old capital of Staffordshire. I could have offered 
incense genio loci; 1 and I indulged in libations of that ale 
which, Boniface, in The Beaux 1 Stratagem, recommends with 
such an eloquent jollity. 

I saw here, for the first time, oat ale; and oat cakes, not 
hard as in Scotland, but soft like a Yorkshire cake, were 
served at breakfast. It was pleasant to me to find, that 
"Oats," the "food of horses ," were so much used as the "food 
of the people" in Dr. Johnson's own town. He expatiated in 
praise of Lichfield and its inhabitants, who, he said, were "the 
most sober, decent people in England, the genteelest in propor- 
tion to their wealth, and spoke the purest English." I doubted 
as to the last article of this eulogy; for they had several 
provincial sounds; as there, pronounced like fear, instead of 
like fair; once, pronounced woonse, instead of wunse, or wonse. 
Johnson himself never got entirely free of those provincial 
accents. Garrick sometimes used to take him off, squeezing a 
lemon into a punch-bowl, with uncouth gesticulation, looking 
round the company, and calling out, "Who's for poonshV 1 

Having lain at St. Alban's, on Thursday, March 28, we 
breakfasted the next morning at Barnet. I enjoyed the 
luxury of our approach to London, that metropolis which 
we both loved so much, for the high and varied intellectual 
pleasure which it furnishes. We stopped at Messieurs Dilly, 
booksellers in the Poultry; from whence he hurried away 
in a hackney coach, to Mr. Thrale's in the Borough. 
1 To the genius of the place. 



144 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1776 

On Wednesday, April 3, in the morning I found him very 
busy putting his books in order, and as they were generally 
very old ones, clouds of dust were flying around him. He 
had on a pair of large gloves such as hedgers use. His pres- 
ent appearance put me in mind of my uncle, Dr. BoswelPs 
description of him, "A robust genius, born to grapple with 
whole libraries/ ' 

When I expressed an earnest wish for his remarks on Italy, 
he said, "I do not see that I could make a book upon Italy; 
yet I should be glad to get two hundred pounds, or five hun- 
dred pounds, by such a work." This showed both that a 
journal of his Tour upon the Continent was not wholly out 
of his contemplation, and that he uniformly adhered to that 
strange opinion which his indolent disposition made him 
utter: "No man but a blockhead ever wrote, except for 
money." Numerous instances to refute this will occur to 
all who are versed in the history of literature. 

It was a very remarkable circumstance about Johnson, 
whom shallow observers have supposed to have been ignorant 
of the world, that very few men had seen greater variety of 
characters; and none could observe them better, as was 
evident from the strong, yet nice portraits which he often 
drew. I have frequently thought that if he had made out 
what the French call une catalogue raisonne 1 of all the people 
who had passed under his observation, it would have afforded 
a very rich fund of instruction and entertainment. The 
suddenness with which his accounts of some of them started 
out in conversation was not less pleasing than surprising. 
I remember he once observed to me, "It is wonderful, Sir, 
what is to be found in London. The most literary conver- 
sation I ever enjoyed was at the table of Jack Ellis, a money- 
scrivener behind the Royal Exchange, with whom I at one 
period used to dine generally once a week." 

Volumes would be required to contain a list of his numerous 

and various acquaintance, none of whom he ever forgot ; and 

could describe and discriminate them all with precision and 

vivacity. He associated with persons the most widely differ- 

1 A systematic catalogue. 



Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 145 

ent in manners, abilities, rank, and accomplishments. He 
was at once the companion of the brilliant Colonel Forrester 
of the Guards, who wrote The Polite Philosopher, and of the 
awkward and uncouth Robert Levett; of Lord Thurlow, and 
Mr. Sastres, the Italian master; and has dined one day with 
the beautiful, gay, and fascinating Lady Craven, and the next 
with good Mrs. Gardiner, the tallow-chandler, on Snowhill. 

We spent the evening at Mr. Hoole's. Mr. Mickle, the 
excellent translator of The Lusiad, was there. I have pre- 
served little of the conversation of this evening. Dr. Johnson 
said, " Thomson had a true poetical genius, the power of 
viewing everything in a poetical light. His fault is such a 
cloud of words sometimes, that the sense can hardly peep 
through. Shiels, who compiled Gibber's Lives of the Poets, 
was one day sitting with me. I took down Thomson, and 
read aloud a large portion of him, and then asked, — 'Is 
not this fine?' Shiels having expressed the highest admira- 
tion, 'Well, Sir, (said I,) I have omitted every other line.'" 

Johnson and I supped this evening at the Crown and Anchor 
tavern, in company with Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Langton, 
Mr. Nairne, now one of the Scotch Judges, with the title of 
Lord Dunsinan, and my very worthy friend, Sir William 
Forbes, of Pitsligo. 

We discussed the question, whether drinking improved 
conversation and benevolence. Sir Joshua maintained it did. 
Johnson. "No, Sir, before dinner men meet with great 
inequality of understanding; and those who are conscious 
of their inferiority have the modesty not to talk. When 
they have drunk wine, every man feels himself happy, and \ 
loses that modesty, and grows impudent and vociferous: 
but he is not improved: he is only not sensible of his defects." 
Sir Joshua said the Doctor was talking of the effects of I 
excess in wine; but that a moderate glass enlivened the 
mind, by giving a proper circulation to the blood. "I am, 
(said he,) in very good spirits, when I get up in the morning. 
By dinner-time I am exhausted; wine puts me in the same 
state as when I got up : and I am sure that moderate drinking 
makes people talk better." Johnson. "No, Sir; wine gives 



146 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1776 

not light, gay, ideal hilarity; but tumultuous, noisy, clam- 
orous merriment. I have heard none of those drunken, — nay, 
drunken is a coarse word, — none of those vinous flights/ ' 
Sir Joshua. " Because you have sat by, quite sober, and felt 
an envy of the happiness of those who were drinking." John- 
son. " Perhaps, contempt. — And, Sir, it is not necessary 
to be drunk one's self, to relish the wit of drunkenness. Do 
we not judge of the drunken wit of the dialogue between 
Iago and Cassio, the most excellent in its kind, when we are 
quite sober? Wit is wit, by whatever means it is produced; 
and, if good, will appear so at all times. I admit that the 
spirits are raised by drinking, as by the common participa- 
tion of any pleasure: cock-fighting, or bear-baiting, will 
raise the spirits of a company, as drinking does, though 
surely they will not improve conversation. I also admit, 
that there are some sluggish men who are improved by drink- 
ing; as there are fruits which are not good till they are rotten. 
There are such men, but they are medlars. I indeed allow 
that there have been a very few men of talents who were 
improved by drinking; but I maintain that I am right as 
to the effects of drinking in general: and let it be considered, 
that there is no position, however false in its universality, 
which is not true of some particular man." Sir William 
Forbes said, " Might not a man warmed with wine be like 
a bottle of beer, which is made brisker by being set before 
the fire?" "Nay, (said Johnson, laughing,) I cannot answer 
that: that is too much for me." 

He told us, "almost all his Ramblers were written just as 
they were wanted for the press; that he sent a certain portion 
of the copy of an essay, and wrote the remainder, while the 
former part of it was printing. When it was wanted, and 
he had fairly sat down to it, he was sure it would be done." 

He said, that for general improvement, a man should 
read whatever his immediate inclination prompts him to; 
though to be sure, if a man has a science to learn, he must 
regularly and resolutely advance. He added, "What we 
read with inclination makes a much stronger impression. 
If we read without inclination, half the mind is employed in 



Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 147 

fixing the attention; so there is but one half to be employed 
on what we read." He told us, he read Fielding's Amelia 
through without stopping. He said, "If a man begins to 
read in the middle of a book, and^ feels an inclination to go 
on, let him not quit it, to go to the beginning. He may per- 
haps not feel again the inclination." 

I am now to record a very curious incident in Dr. Johnson's 
life, which fell under my own observation; of which pars 
magna fui, 1 and which I am persuaded will, with the liberal- 
minded, be much to his credit. 

My desire of being acquainted with celebrated men of 
every description had made me, much about the same time, 
obtain an introduction to Dr. Samuel Johnson and to John 
Wilkes, Esq. Two men more different could perhaps not 
be selected out of all mankind. They had even attacked 
one another with some asperity in their writings; yet I lived 
in habits of friendship with both. I could fully relish the 
excellence of each; for I have ever delighted in that intel- 
lectual chemistry which can separate good qualities from 
evil in the same person. 

Sir John Pringle, "mine own friend and my Father's 
friend," between whom and Dr. Johnson I in vain wished 
to establish an acquaintance, as I respected and lived in 
intimacy with both of them, observed to me once, very 
ingeniously, "It is not in friendship as in mathematics, where 
two things, each equal to a third, are equal between them- 
selves. You agree with Johnson as a middle quality, and 
you agree with me as a middle quality; but Johnson and I 
should not agree." Sir John was not sufficiently flexible; 
so I desisted ; knowing, indeed, that the repulsion was equally 
strong on the part of Johnson; who, I know not from what 
cause, unless his being a Scotchman, had formed a very 
erroneous opinion of Sir John. But I conceived an irresist- 
ible wish, if possible, to bring Dr. Johnson and Mr. Wilkes 
together. How to manage it, was a nice and difficult matter. 

My worthy booksellers and friends, Messieurs Dilly in the 
Poultry, at whose hospitable and well-covered table I have 
I played a great rule, from Virgil's Aeneid, ii, 6. J 



148 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1776 

seen a greater number of literary men than at any other 
except that of Sir Joshua Reynolds, had invited me to meet 
Mr. Wilkes and some more gentlemen, on Wednesday, May 
15. "Pray (said I,) let us have Dr. Johnson/' — "What, 
with Mr. Wilkes? not for the world, (said Mr. Edward Dilly;) 
Dr. Johnson would never forgive me." — Come, (said I,) if 
you'll let me negotiate for you, I will be answerable that all 
shall go well." Dilly. "Nay, if you will take it upon you, 
I am sure I shall be very happy to see them both here." 

Notwithstanding the high veneration which I entertained 
for Dr. Johnson, I was sensible that he was sometimes a 
little actuated by the spirit of contradiction, and by means 
of that I hoped I should gain my point. I was persuaded 
that if I had come upon him with a direct proposal, "Sir, 
will you dine in company with Jack Wilkes?" he would have 
flown into a passion, and would probably have answered, 
"Dine with Jack Wilkes, Sir! I'd as soon dine with Jack 
Ketch." I therefore, while we were sitting quietly by our- 
selves at his house in an evening, took occasion to open my 
plan thus: "Mr. Dilly, Sir, sends his respectful compliments 
to you, and would be happy if you would do him the honor 
to dine with him on Wednesday next along with me, as I 
must soon go to Scotland." Johnson. "Sir, I am obliged 
to Mr. Dilly. I will wait upon him — " Boswell. "Pro- 
vided, Sir, I suppose, that the company which he is to have, is 
agreeable to you." Johnson. "What do you mean, Sir? 
What do you take me for? Do you think I am so ignorant 
of the world, as to imagine that I am to prescribe to a gentle- 
man what company he is to have at his table?" Boswell. 
"I beg your pardon, Sir, for wishing to prevent you from 
meeting people whom you might not like. Perhaps he may 
have some of what he calls his patriotic friends with him." 
Johnson. "Well, Sir, and what then? What care / for his 
patriotic friends? Poh!" Boswell. "I should not be sur- 
prised to find Jack Wilkes there." Johnson. "And if 
Jack Wilkes should be there, what is that to me, Sir? My 
dear friend, let us have no more of this. I am sorry to be 
angry with you; but really it is treating me strangely to 



Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 149 

talk to me as if I could not meet any company whatever, 
occasionally. " Boswell. "Pray, forgive me, Sir: I meant 
well. But you shall meet whoever comes, for me." Thus 
I secured him, and told Dilly that he would find him very 
well pleased to be one of his guests on the day appointed. 

Upon the much expected Wednesday. I called on him about 
half an hour before dinner, as I often did when we were to 
dine out together, to see that he was ready in time, and to 
accompany him. I found him buffeting his books, as upon 
a former occasion, covered with dust, and making no prepa- 
ration for going abroad. "How is this, Sir? (said I). Don't 
you recollect that you are to dine at Mr. Dilly's?" Johnson. 
"Sir, I did not think of going to Dilly's: it went out of my 
head. I have ordered dinner at home with Mrs. Williams." 
Boswell. "But, my dear Sir, you know you were engaged 
to Mr. Dilly, and I told him so. He will expect you, and 
will be much disappointed if you don't come." Johnson. 
"You must talk to Mrs. Williams about this." 

Here was a sad dilemma. I feared that what I was so 
confident I had secured would yet be frustrated. He had 
accustomed himself to show Mrs. Williams such a degree of 
humane attention, as frequently imposed some restraint 
upon him; and I knew that if she should be obstinate, he 
would not stir. I hastened down stairs to the blind lady's 
room, and told her I was in great uneasiness, for Dr. Johnson 
had engaged to me to dine this day at Mr. Dilly's, but that 
he had told me he had forgotten his engagement, and had 
ordered dinner at home. "Yes, sir, (said she, pretty peev- 
ishly,) Dr. Johnson is to dine at home." — "Madam, (said 
I,) his respect for you is such, that I know he will not leave 
you, unless you absolutely desire it. But as you have so 
much of his company, I hope you will be good enough to 
forego it for a day: as Mr. Dilly is a very worthy man, has 
frequently had agreeable parties at his house for Dr. Johnson, 
and will be vexed if the Doctor neglects him to-day. And 
then, Madam, be pleased to consider my situation; I carried 
the message, and I assured Mr. Dilly that Dr. Johnson 
was to come; and no doubt he has made a dinner, and in- 



150 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1776 

vited a company, and boasted of the honor he expected to 
have. I shall be quite disgraced if the Doctor is not there." 
She gradually softened to my solicitations, which were cer- 
tainly as earnest as most entreaties to ladies upon any occa- 
sion, and was graciously pleased to empower me to tell Dr. 
Johnson, "That all things considered, she thought he should 
certainly go." I flew back to him, still in dust, and careless 
of what should be the event, "indifferent in his choice to go 
or stay;" but as soon as I had announced to him Mrs. Wil- 
liams's consent, he roared, "Frank, a clean shirt," and was 
very soon dressed. • When I had him fairly seated in a hackney 
coach with me, I exulted as much as a fortune-hunter who 
has got an heiress into a post-chaise with him to set out for 
Gretna-Green. 

When we entered Mr. Dilly's drawing-room, he found 
himself in the midst of a company he did not know. I kept 
myself snug and silent, watching how he would conduct 
himself. I observed him whispering to Mr. Dilly, "Who 
is that gentleman, Sir?" — "Mr. Arthur Lee." — Johnson. 
"Too, too, too" (under his breath), which was one of his 
habitual mutterings. Mr. Arthur Lee could not but be very 
obnoxious to Johnson, for he was not only a patriot, but an 
American. He was afterwards minister from the United 
States at the court of Madrid. "And who is the gentleman 
in lace?" — "Mr. Wilkes, Sir." This information con- 
founded him still more; he had some difficulty to restrain 
himself, and taking up a book, sat down upon a window-seat 
and read, or at least kept his eye upon it intently for some 
time, till he composed himself. His feelings, I dare say, 
were awkward enough. But he no doubt recollected his 
having rated me for supposing that he could be at all dis- 
concerted by any company, and he, therefore, resolutely set 
himself to behave quite as an easy man of the world, who 
could adapt himself at once to the disposition and manners 
of those whom he might chance to meet. 

The cheering sound of "Dinner is upon the table," dis- 
solved his reverie, and we all sat down without any symptom 
of ill humor. There were present, beside Mr. Wilkes, and 



Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 151 

Mr. Arthur Lee, who was an old companion of mine when he 
studied physic at Edinburgh, Mr. (now Sir John) Miller, 
Dr. Lettsom, and Mr. Slater, the druggist. Mr. Wilkes 
placed himself next to Dr. Johnson, and behaved to him 
with so much attention and politeness, that he gained upon 
him insensibly. No man eat more heartily than Johnson, 
or loved better what was nice and delicate. Mr. Wilkes 
was very assiduous in helping him to some fine veal. "Pray 
give me leave, Sir : It is better here — A little of the brown 

— Some fat, Sir — A little of the stuffing — Some gravy — ■ 
Let me have the pleasure of giving you some butter — Allow 
me to recommend a squeeze of this orange ; — or the lemon, 
perhaps, may have more zest." — "Sir, Sir, I am obliged 
to you, Sir," cried Johnson, bowing, and turning his head 
to him with a look for some time of "surly virtue," but, in 
a short while, of complacency. 

Foote being mentioned, Johnson said, "He is not a good 
mimic." One of the company added, "A merry Andrew, 
a buffoon." Johnson. "But he has wit too, and is not 
deficient in ideas, or in fertility and variety of imagery, and 
not empty of reading; he has knowledge enough to fill up 
his part. One species of wit he has in an eminent degree, 
that of escape. You drive him into a corner with both 
hands; but he's gone, Sir, when you think you have got him 

— like an animal that jumps over your head. Then he has 
a great range for wit; he never lets truth stand between him 
and a jest, and he is sometimes mighty coarse. Garrick 
is under many restraints from which Foote is free." Wilkes. 
"Garrick's wit is more like Lord Chesterfield's." Johnson. 
"The first time I was in company with Foote was at Fitz- 
herbert's. Having no good opinion of the fellow, I was 
resolved not to be pleased; and it is very difficult to please 
a man against his will. I went on eating my dinner pretty 
sullenly, affecting not to mind him. But the dog was so 
very comical, that I was obliged to lay down my knife and 
fork, throw myself back upon my chair, and fairly laugh it 
out. No, Sir, he was irresistible. He upon one occasion 
experienced, in an extraordinary degree, the efficacy of his 



152 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1776 

powers of entertaining. Amongst the many and various 
modes which he tried of getting money, he became a partner 
with a small-beer brewer, and he was to have a share of the 
profits for procuring customers amongst his numerous ac- 
quaintance. Fitzherbert was one who took his small-beer; 
but it was so bad that the servants resolved not to drink it. 
They were at some loss how to notify their resolution, being 
afraid of offending their master, who they knew liked Foote 
much as a companion. At last they fixed upon a little 
black boy, who was rather a favorite, to be their deputy, and 
deliver their remonstrance; and having invested him with 
the whole authority of the kitchen, he was to inform Mr. 
Fitzherbert, in all their names, upon a certain day, that they 
would drink Foote's small-beer no longer. On that day 
Foote happened to dine at Fitzherbert's, and this boy served 
at table; he was so delighted with Footers stories, and merri- 
ment, and grimace, that when he went down stairs, he told 
them, "This is the finest man I have ever seen. I will not 
deliver your message. I will drink his small-beer." 

Somebody observed that Garrick could not have done this. 
Wilkes. " Garrick would have made the small-beer still 
smaller. He is now leaving the stage; but he will play 
Scrub all his life." I knew that Johnson would let nobody 
attack Garrick but himself, as Garrick said to me, and I 
had heard him praise his liberality; so to bring out his com- 
mendation of his celebrated pupil, I said loudly, "I have heard 
Garrick is liberal." Johnson. "Yes, Sir, I know that 
Garrick has given away more money than any man in Eng- 
land that I am acquainted with, and that not from osten- 
tatious views. Garrick was very poor when he began life; 
so when he came to have money, he probably was very un- 
skilful in giving away, and saved when he should not. But 
Garrick began to be liberal as soon as he could; and I am 
of opinion, the reputation of avarice which he has had has 
been very lucky for him, and prevented his having many 
enemies. You despise a man for avarice, but do not hate him. 
Garrick might have been much better attacked for living 
with more splendor than is suitable to a player: if they had 



Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 153 

had the wit to have assaulted him in that quarter, they might 
have galled him more. But they have kept clamoring 
about his avarice, which has rescued him from much obloquy 
and envy." 

Talking of the great difficulty of obtaining authentic infor- 
mation for biography, Johnson told us, " When I was a young 
fellow I wanted to write the Life of Dryden, and in order to 
get materials, I applied to the only two persons then alive 
who had seen him; these were old Swinne}^ and old Cibber. 
Swinney's information was no more than this, 'That at 
Will's coffee-house Dryden had a particular chair for himself, 
which was set by the fire in winter, and was then called his 
winter-chair; and that it was carried out for him to the 
balcony in summer, and was then called his summer-chair.' 
Cibber could tell no more but 'That he remembered him a 
decent old man, arbiter of critical disputes at Will's/ You 
are to consider that Cibber was then at a great distance from 
Dryden, had perhaps one leg only in the room, and durst not 
draw in the other/' Boswell. "Yet Cibber was a man of 
observation?" Johnson. "I think not." Boswell. "You 
will allow his Apology to be well done." Johnson. "Very 
well done, to be sure, Sir. That book is a striking proof of 
the justice of Pope's remark: 

'"Each might his several province well command, 
Would all but stoop to what they understand. '" 

Boswell. "And his plays are good." Johnson. "Yes; 
but that was his trade; F esprit de corps; l he had been all 
his life among players and play- writers. I wondered that 
he had so little to say in conversation, for he had kept the 
best company, and learnt all that can be got by the ear. 
He abused Pindar to me, and then showed me an ode of his 
own, with an absurd couplet, making a linnet soar on an 
eagle's wing. I told him that when the ancients made a 
simile, they always made it like something real." 

Wilkes. "We have no City-Poet now: that is an office 
which has gone into disuse. The last was Elkanah Settle. 
1 The common devotion of members to an organization. 



154 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1776 

There is something in names which one cannot help feeling. 
Now Elkanah Settle sounds so queer, who can expect much 
from that name? We should have no hesitation to give it 
for John Dryden, in preference to Elkanah Settle, from the 
names only, without knowing their different merits." 

Mr. Arthur Lee mentioned some Scotch who had taken 
possession of a barren part of America, and wondered why 
they should choose it. Johnson. "Why, Sir, all barren- 
ness is comparative. The Scotch would not know it to be 
barren." Boswell. "Come, come, he is flattering the Eng- 
lish. You have now been in Scotland, Sir, and say if you 
did not see meat and drink enough there." Johnson. " Why 
yes, Sir; meat and drink enough to give the inhabitants 
sufficient strength to run away from home." All these 
quick and lively sallies were said sportively, quite in jest, 
and with a smile, which showed that he meant only wit. 
Upon this topic he and Mr. Wilkes could perfectly assimilate; 
here was a bond of union between them, and I was conscious 
that as both of them had visited Caledonia, both were fully 
satisfied of the strange narrow ignorance of those who imagine 
that it is a land of famine. But they amused themselves 
with persevering in the old jokes. 

This record, though by no means so perfect as I could 
wish, will serve to give a notion of a very curious interview, 
which was not only pleasing at the time, but had the agree- 
able and benignant effect of reconciling any animosity and 
sweetening any acidity, which, in the various bustle of polit- 
ical contest, had been produced in the minds of two men, 
who, though widely different, had so many things in common 
■ — classical learning, modern literature, wit and humor, 
and ready repartee — that it would have been much to be 
regretted if they had been for ever at a distance from each 
other. 

Mr. Burke gave me much credit for this successful nego- 
tiation; and pleasantly said, "that there was nothing equal 
to it in the whole history of the Corps Diplomatique." 

I attended Dr. Johnson home, and had the satisfaction 
to hear him tell Mrs. Williams how much he had been pleased 



Age 67] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 155 

with Mr. Wilkes's company, and what an agreeable day he 
had passed. 

On the evening of the next day I took leave of him, being to 
set out for Scotland. I thanked him with great warmth for 
all his kindness. "Sir, (said he,) you are very welcome. 
Nobody repays it with more." 

How very false is the notion that has gone round the world 
of the rough, and passionate, and harsh manners of this great 
and good man. That he had occasional sallies of heat of 
temper, and that he was sometimes, perhaps, "too easily 
provoked" by absurdity and folly, and sometimes too desirous 
of triumph in colloquial contest, must be allowed. The 
quickness both of his perception and sensibility disposed 
him to sudden explosions of satire, to which his extraordinary 
readiness of wit was a strong and almost irresistible incite- 
ment. To adopt one of the finest images in Mr. Home's 
Douglas, 

". . . On each glance of thought 
Decision followed, as the thunderbolt 
Pursues the flash!" . . . 

I admit that the beadle^ within him was often so eager to 
apply the lash, that the Judge had not time to consider the 
case with sufficient deliberation. 

That he was occasionally remarkable for violence of temper 
may be granted: but let us ascertain the degree, and not let 
it be supposed that he was in a perpetual rage, and never 
without a club in his hand to knock down everyone who 
approached him. On the contrary, the truth is that by much 
the greatest part of his time he was civil, obliging, nay, polite 
in the true sense of the word; so much so, that many gentle- 
men who were long acquainted with him never received, or 
even heard a strong expression from him. 



CHAPTER XI (1777) 
The Trip to Ashbourne 

Letters to Bos well — The Inception of The Lives of the English 
Poets — The Addition of Watts — Johnson and Mrs. Boswell — ■ 
Boswell Meets Johnson at Ashbourne — On the Archaic Style in 
Poetry — Johnson's Burlesque Ballad — On Cibber — On Keeping 
a Bad Table — On Certain English Phrases — Boswell and Johnson 
Exchange Sentiments of Regard. 

" To Dr. Samuel Johnson. 

" Glasgow, April 24, 1777. 
"My dear Sir, 

"Our worthy friend Thrale's death having appeared in the 
newspapers, and been afterwards contradicted, I have been 
placed in a state of very uneasy uncertainty, from which I 
hoped to be relieved by you : but my hopes have as yet been 
vain. How could you omit to write to me on such an occa- 
sion? I shall wait with anxiety. 

"I am going to Auchinleck to stay a fortnight with my 
father. It is better not to be there very long at one time. 
But frequent renewals of attention are agreeable to him. 

"Pray tell me about this edition of The English Poets, with 
a Preface, biographical and critical, to each Author, by 
Samuel Johnson, LL.D. which I see advertised. I am de- 
lighted with the prospect of it. Indeed I am happy to feel 
that I am capable of being so much delighted with literature. 
But is not the charm of this publication chiefly owing to the 
magnum nomen 1 in the front of it? 

"What do you say of Lord Chesterfield's Memoirs and last 
Letters? 

"My wife has made marmalade of oranges for you. I left 
her and my daughters and Alexander all well yesterday. I 
1 The great name. 
156 



Age 68] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 157 

have taught Veronica to speak of you thus : — Dr. Johnson, 
not Johnston. I remain, my dear Sir, 

"Your most affectionate, 
" And obliged humble servant, 
"James Boswell." 

" To James Boswell, Esq. 
"Dear Sir, 

"The story of Mr. Thrale's death, as he had neither been 
sick nor in any other danger, made so little impression upon 
me, that I never thought about obviating its effects on any- 
body else. It is supposed to have been produced by the 
English custom of making April fools, that is, of sending one 
another on some foolish errand on the first of April. 

"Tell Mrs. Boswell that I shall taste her marmalade cau- 
tiously at first. Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes. 1 Beware, 
says the Italian proverb, of a reconciled enemy. But when 
I find it does me no harm, I shall then receive it and be thank- 
ful for it, as a pledge of firm and, I hope, of unalterable kind- 
ness. She is, after all, a dear, dear lady. 

"Please to return Dr. Blair thanks for his sermons. The 
Scotch write English wonderfully well. . . . 

"Your frequent visits to Auchinleck, and your short stay 
there, are very laudable and very judicious. Your present 
concord with your father gives me great pleasure; it was all 
that you seemed to want. 

"My health is very bad, and my nights are very unquiet. 
What can I do to mend them? I have for this summer 
nothing better in prospect than a journey into Staffordshire 
and Derbyshire, perhaps with Oxford and Birmingham in my 
way. 

"Make my compliments to Miss Veronica; I must leave 
it to her philosophy to comfort you for the loss of little 
David. You must remember, that to keep three out of four 
is more than your share. Mrs. Thrale has but four out of 
eleven. 

1 "I fear the Greeks, even though they come bearing gifts," re- 
marked a suspicious Trojan in Virgil's Aerteid, ii, 49. 



158 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1777 

"I am engaged to write little Lives, and little Prefaces, to a 
little edition of The English Poets. I think I have persuaded 
the booksellers to insert something of Thomson; and if you 
could give me some information about him, for the Life 
which we have is very scanty, I should be glad. I am, dear 
Sir, 

"Your most affectionate humble servant, 
"Sam. Johnson." 
"May 3, 1777." 

To those who delight in tracing the progress of works of 
literature, it will be an entertainment to compare the limited 
design with the ample execution of that admirable perform- 
ance, The Lives of the English Poets, which is the richest, most 
beautiful, and indeed most perfect, production of Johnson's 
pen. His notion of it at this time appears in the preceding 
letter. He has a memorandum in this year, "29 May, 
Easter Eve, I treated with booksellers on a bargain, but the 
time was not long." The bargain was concerning that under- 
taking; but his tender conscience seems alarmed, lest it 
should have intruded too much on his devout preparation for 
the solemnity of the ensuing day. But, indeed, very little 
time was necessary for Johnson's concluding a treaty with the 
booksellers; as he had, I believe, less attention to profit from 
his labors, than any man to whom literature has been a 
profession. I shall here insert from a letter to me from my 
late worthy friend Mr. Edward Dilly, though of a later date, 
an account of this plan so happily conceived ; since it was the 
occasion of procuring for- us an elegant collection of the best 
biography and criticism of which our language can boast. 

" To James Boswell, Esq. 

"Southhill, Sept. 26, 1777. 
"Dear Sir, 

"You will find by this letter, that I am still in the same 
calm retreat, from the noise and bustle of London, as when I 
wrote to you last. I am happy to find you had such an agree- 
able meeting with your old friend Dr. Johnson; I have no 



Age 68] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 159 

doubt your stock is much increased by the interview; few 
men, nay I may say, scarcely any man has got that fund of 
knowledge and entertainment as Dr. Johnson in conversation. 
When he opens freely, every one is attentive to what he says, 
and cannot fail of improvement as well as pleasure. 

"The edition of The Poets, now printing, will do honor to 
the English press; and a concise account of the life of each 
author, by Dr. Johnson, will be a very valuable addition, and 
stamp the reputation of this edition superior to anything that 
is gone before. The first cause that gave rise to this under- 
taking, I believe, was owing to the little trifling edition of The 
Poets, printing by the Martins at Edinburgh, and to be sold 
by Bell, in London. Upon examining the volumes which 
were printed, the type was found so extremely small, that 
many persons could not read them; not only this inconven- 
ience attended it, but the inaccuracy of the press was very 
conspicuous. These reasons, as well as the idea of an in- 
vasion of what we call our Literary Property, induced the 
London booksellers to print an elegant and accurate edition 
of all the English poets of reputation, from Chaucer to the 
present time. 

" Accordingly a select number of the most respectable 
booksellers met on the occasion; and on consulting together, 
agreed, that all the proprietors of copyright in the various 
Poets should be summoned together ; and when their opinions 
were given, to proceed immediately on the business. Ac- 
cordingly a meeting was held, consisting of about forty of the 
most respectable booksellers of London, when it was agreed 
that an elegant and uniform edition of The English Poets 
should be immediately printed, with a concise account of the 
life of each author, by Dr. Samuel Johnson; and that three 
persons should be deputed to wait upon Dr. Johnson, to 
solicit him to undertake the Lives, viz., T. Davies, Strahan, 
and Cadell. The Doctor very politely undertook it, and 
seemed exceedingly pleased with the proposal. As to the 
terms, it w r as left entirely to the Doctor to name his own ; he 
mentioned two hundred guineas; it was immediately agreed 
to; and a farther compliment, I believe, will be made him. 



160 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1777 

A committee was likewise appointed to engage the best 
engravers, viz., Bartolozzi, Sherwin, Hall, &c. Likewise 
another committee for giving directions about the paper, 
printing, &c. so that the whole will be conducted with spirit, 
and in the best manner, with respect to authorship, editorship, 
engravings, &c. &c. My brother will give you a list of the 
Poets we mean to give, many of which are within the time of 
the Act of Queen Anne, which Martin and Bell cannot give, 
as they have no property in them ; the proprietors are almost 
all the booksellers in London, of consequence. I am, dear 
Sir, 

"Ever yours, 

" Edward Dilly." 

"Dr. Johnson to Mr. Edward Dilly. 
"Sir, 

"To the collection of English Poets I have recommended 
the volume of Dr. Watts to be added ; his name has long been 
held by me in veneration, and I would not willingly be re- 
duced to tell of him only that he was born and died. Yet of 
his life I know very little, and therefore must pass him in a 
manner very unworthy of his character, unless some of his 
friends will favor me with the necessary information; many 
of them must be known to you; and by your influence per- 
haps I may obtain some instruction. My plan does not 
exact much; but I wish to distinguish Watts, a man who 
never wrote but for a good purpose. Be pleased to do for me 
what you can. I am, Sir, 

"Your humble servant, 

"Sam. Johnson." 
"Bolt-court, Fleet-street, 
"July 7, 1777." 

"Dr. Johnson to Mrs. Boswell. 
"Madam, 

"Though I am well enough pleased with the taste of sweet- 
meats, very little of the pleasure which I received at the 
arrival of your jar of marmalade arose from eating it. I 



Age 68] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 161 

received it as a token of friendship, as a proof of reconcilia- 
tion, things much sweeter than sweetmeats, and upon this 
consideration I return you, dear Madam, my sincerest thanks. 
By having your kindness I think I have a double security for 
the continuance of Mr. Boswell's, which it is not to be ex- 
pected that any man can long keep, when the influence of a 
lady highly and so justly valued operates against him. Mr. 
Boswell will tell you that I was always faithful to your in- 
terest, and always endeavored to exalt you in his estimation. 
You must now do the same for me. We must all help one 
another and you must now consider me as, dear Madam, 
"Your most obliged 

"And most humble servant, 
" July 22, 1777." "Sam. Johnson." 

On Sunday evening, Sept. 14, I arrived at Ashbourne, and 
drove directly up to Dr. Taylor's door. Dr. Johnson and he 
appeared before I had got out of the post-chaise, and welcomed 
me cordially. 

I was somewhat disappointed in finding that the edition of 
The English Poets, for which he was to write Prefaces and 
Lives, was not an undertaking directed by him: but that he 
w T as to furnish a Preface and Life to any poet the booksellers 
pleased. I asked him if he would do this to any dunce's 
works, if they should ask him. Johnson. "Yes, Sir, and 
say he was a dunce." My friend seemed now not much to 
relish talking of this edition. 

We had with us at dinner several of Dr. Taylor's neigh- 
bours, good civil gentlemen, who seemed to understand Dr. 
Johnson very well, and not to consider him in the light that a 
certain person did, who being struck, or rather stunned by 
his voice and manner, when he was afterwards asked what he 
thought of him, answered, "He's a tremendous companion." 

He observed, that a gentleman of eminence in literature 
had got into a bad style of poetry of late. " He puts (said he) 
a very common thing in a strange dress till he does not know 
it himself, and thinks other people do not know it." Bos- 
well. "That is owing to his being so much versant in old 



162 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1777 

English poetry." Johnson. "What is that to the purpose, 
Sir? If I say a man is drunk, and you tell me it is owing to 
his taking much drink, the matter is not mended. No, Sir, 
— has taken to an odd mode. For example; he'd write thus: 

'Hermit hoar, in solemn cell, 

Wearing out life's evening gray.' 

Gray evening is common enough ; but evening gray he'd think 
fine. — Stay; — we'll make out the stanza: 

'Hermit hoar, in solemn cell, 

Wearing out life's evening gray: 
Smite thy bosom, sage, and tell 

What is bliss? and which the way?'" 

Boswell. "But why smite his bosom, Sir?" Johnson. 
"Why to show he was in earnest," (smiling). — He at an 
after period added the following stanza: 

"Thus I spoke; and speaking sigh'd; 

— Scarce repress'd the starting tear; — 
When the smiling sage replied — 

— Come, my lad, and drink some beer." 

I cannot help thinking the first stanza very good solemn 
poetry, as also the first three lines of the second. Its last 
line is an excellent burlesque surprise on gloomy sentimental 
enquirers. 

I suggested a doubt, that if I were to reside in London, the 
exquisite zest with which I relished it in occasional visits might 
go off, and I might grow tired of it. Johnson. "Why, Sir, 
you find no man, at all intellectual, who is willing to leave 
London. No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired 
of life; for there is in London all that life can afford." 

I shall present my readers with a series of what I gathered 
this evening from the Johnsonian garden. 

"Garrick's gaiety of conversation had delicacy and elegance; 
Foote makes you laugh more; but Foote has the air of a 
buffoon paid for entertaining the company. He, indeed, well 
deserves his hire." 

"Colley Cibber once consulted me as to one of his birth- 
day Odes, a long time before it was wanted. I objected very 



Age 68] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 163 

freely to several passages. Cibber lost patience, and would 
not read his Ode to an end. When we had done with criticism, 
we walked over to Richardson's, the author of Clarissa, and 
I wondered to find Richardson displeased that I ' did not treat 
Cibber with more respect,' Now, Sir, to talk of respect for 
a player!" (smiling disdainfully.) Boswell. " There, Sir, 
you are always heretical: you never will allow merit to a 
player." Johnson. " Merit, Sir, what merit? Do you re- 
spect a rope-dancer, or a ballad-singer?' 7 Boswell. "No, 
Sir: but we respect a great player, as a man who can conceive 
lofty sentiments, and can express them gracefully." John- 
son. "What, Sir, a fellow who claps a hump on his back, 
and a lump on his leg, and cries, 'I am Richard the Third'? 
Nay, sir, a ballad-singer is a higher man, for he does two 
things; he repeats and he sings: there is both recitation and 
music in his performance : the player only recites." Boswell. 
"My dear Sir! you may turn any thing into ridicule. I allow, 
that a player of farce is not entitled to respect; he does a 
little thing: but he who can represent exalted characters and 
touch the noblest passions, has very respectable powers; and 
mankind have agreed in admiring great talents for the stage. 
We must consider, too, that a great player does what very 
few are capable to do: his art is a very rare faculty. Who 
can repeat Hamlet's soliloquy, ' To be, or not to be ' as Gar- 
rick does it?" Johnson. "Anybody may. Jemmy, there 
(a boy about eight years old, who was in the room) will do it 
as well in a week." Boswell. "No, no, Sir: and as a proof 
of the merit of great acting, and of the value which mankind 
set upon it, Garrick has got a hundred thousand pounds." 
Johnson. "Is getting a hundred thousand pounds a proof 
of excellence? That has been done by a scoundrel com- 
missary." 

He found great fault with a gentleman of our acquaintance 
for keeping a bad table. "Sir, (said he,) when a man is in- 
vited to dinner, he is disappointed if he does not get something 
good. I advised Mrs. Thrale, who has no card-parties at 
her house, to give sweet-meats, and such good things, in an 
evening, as are not commonly given, and she would find com- 



164 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1777 

pany enough come to her; for everybody loves to have things 
which please the palate put in their way, without trouble or 
preparation." Such was his attention to the minutiae of life 
and manners. 

I complained of a wretched changefulness, so that I could 
not preserve, for any long continuance, the same views of 
anything. It was most comfortable to me to experience, in 
Dr. Johnson's company, a relief from this uneasiness. His 
steady vigorous mind held firm before me those objects which 
my own feeble and tremulous imagination frequently pre- 
sented in such a wavering state, that my reason could not 
judge well of them. 

He found fault with me for using the phrase to make money. 
"Don't you see (said he) the impropriety of it? To make 
money is to coin it : you should say get money." The phrase, 
however, is, I think, pretty current. But Johnson was at all 
times jealous of infractions upon the genuine English language, 
and prompt to repress colloquial barbarisms ; such as pledging 
myself, for undertaking; line, for department, or branch, as, 
the civil line, the banking line. He was particularly indignant 
against the almost universal use of the word idea in the sense 
of notion, of opinion, when it is clear that idea can only sig- 
nify something of which an image can be formed in the mind. 
We may have an idea or image of a mountain, a tree, a build- 
ing; but we cannot surely have an idea or image of an argu- 
ment or proposition. Yet we hear the sages of the law " de- 
livering their ideas upon the question under consideration;" 
and the first speakers in parliament " entirely coinciding in 
the idea which has been ably stated by an honorable mem- 
ber;" — or " reprobating an idea unconstitutional, and 
fraught with the most dangerous consequences to a great and 
free country." Johnson called this " modern cant." 

This evening, while some of the tunes of ordinary composi- 
tion were played with no great skill, my frame was agitated, 
and I was conscious of a generous attachment to Dr. John- 
son, as my preceptor and friend, mixed with an affectionate 
regret that he was an old man, whom I should probably lose 
in a short time. I thought I could defend him at the point 



Age 68] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 165 

of my sword. My reverence and affection for him were in 
full glow. I said to him, "My dear Sir, we must meet every 
year, if you don't quarrel with me." Johnson. "Nay, Sir, 
you are more likely to quarrel with me, than I with you. 
My regard for you is greater almost than I have words to 
express ; but I do not choose to be always repeating it ; write 
it down in the first leaf of your pocket-book, and never doubt 
of it again." 



CHAPTER XII (1778) 
Johnson Speaks on Many Matters 

Johnson's Charity and Liberality — Dinner at Sir Joshua Rey- 
nolds's — Johnson on Horace — On Goldsmith — On Living in the 
Country — On Literature in France and England — On Old Age — 
On Potter's iEschylus — On Cadence in English Prose — On El- 
phinstone's Martial — On Criticising Authors — On War — John- 
son's Refusal to be Teased with Questions — Johnson's Methods of 
Reading — On Flattery — The Meeting of Johnson and His Old 
Schoolmate Edwards — Edwards's Reminiscences of Johnson ,at 
College — Edwards on Being a Philosopher — ■ Johnson's Impatience 
at Reminders of Old Age — Johnson's Taciturnity — Johnson on 
Americans — Boswell Offended — Reconciled to Johnson. 

On Wednesday, March 18, I arrived in London, and was 
informed by good Mr. Francis, that his master was better, 
and was gone to Mr. Thrale's at Streatham, to which place 
I wrote to him, begging to know when he would be in town. 

On Friday, March 20, I found him at his own house, sitting 
with Mrs. Williams, and was informed that the room for- 
merly allotted to me was now appropriated to a charitable 
purpose; Mrs. Desmoulins, and I think her daughter, and a 
Miss Carmichael, being all lodged in it. Such was his hu- 
manity, and such his generosity, that Mrs. Desmoulins 
herself told me, he allowed her half-a-guinea a week. Let 
it be remembered, that this was above a twelfth part of his 
pension. 

His liberality, indeed, was at all periods of his life very 
remarkable. Mr. Howard, of Lichfield, at whose father's 
house Johnson had in his early years been kindly received, 
told me, that when he was a boy at the Charter-house, his 
father wrote to him to go and pay a visit to Mr. Samuel 
Johnson, which he accordingly did, and found him in an 
upper room, of poor appearance. Johnson received him 
with much courteousness, and talked a great deal to him, 

166 



Age 69] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 167 

as to a school-boy, of the course of his education, and other 
particulars. When he afterwards came to know and under- 
stand the high character of this great man, he recollected 
his condescension with wonder. He added, that when he 
was going away, Mr. Johnson presented him with half-a- 
guinea; and this, said Mr. Howard, was at a time when he 
probably had not another. 

He said, "John Wesley's conversation is good, but he is 
never at leisure. He is always obliged to go at a certain 
hour. This is very disagreeable to a man who loves to fold 
his legs and have out his talk, as I do." 

Soon after our arrival at Thrale's, I heard one of the maids 
calling eagerly on another, to go to Dr. Johnson. I won- 
dered what this could mean. I afterwards learned, that it 
was to give her a Bible, which he had brought from London 
as a present to her. 

He was for a considerable time occupied in reading Memoires 
de Fontenelle, leaning and swinging upon the low gate into 
the court, without his hat. 

On Thursday, April 9, I dined with him at Sir Joshua 
Reynolds's, with the Bishop of St. Asaph, (Dr. Shipley,) 
Mr. Allan Ramsay, Mr. Gibbon, Mr. Cambridge, and Mr. 
Langton. Mr. Ramsay had lately returned from Italy, and 
entertained us with his observations upon Horace's villa, 
which he had examined with great care. I relished this 
much, as it brought fresh into my mind what I had viewed 
w T ith great pleasure thirteen years before. The Bishop, Dr. 
Johnson, and Mr. Cambridge joined with Mr. Ramsay, in 
recollecting the various lines in Horace relating to the subject. 

The Bishop said, it appeared from Horace's writings that 
he was a cheerful, contented man. Johnson. "We have no 
reason to believe that, my lord. Are we to think Pope was 
happy, because he says so in his writings? We see in his 
writings what he wished the state of his mind to appear. Dr. 
Young, who pined for preferment, talks with contempt of it 
in his writings, and affects to despise everything that he did 
not despise." Bishop of St. Asaph. "He was like other 
chaplains, looking for vacancies: but that is not peculiar 



/ 



168 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1778 

to the clergy. I remember when I was with the army, after 
the battle of Lafeldt, the officers seriously grumbled that no 
general was killed." Boswell. "How hard is it that man 
can never be at rest." Ramsay. "It is not in his nature 
to be at rest. When he is at rest, he is in the worst state 
that he can be in; for he has nothing to agitate him. He 
is then like the man in the Irish song, 

' There liv'd a young man in Ballinacrazy, 
Who wanted a wife for to make him unaisy. '" 

Goldsmith being mentioned, Johnson observed, that it 
was long before his merit came to be acknowledged: that 
he once complained to him, in ludicrous terms of distress, 
"Whenever I write anything, the public make a point to 
know nothing about it:" but that his Traveller brought him 
into high reputation. Langton. "There is not one bad line 
in that poem; not one of Dryden's careless verses." Sir 
Joshua. "I was glad to hear Charles Fox say, it was one 
of the finest poems in the English language." Langton. 
"Why were you glad? You surely had no doubt of this 
before." Johnson. "No; the merit of The Traveller is so 
well established, that Mr. Fox's praise cannot augment it, 
nor his censure diminish it." Sir Joshua. "But his friends 
may suspect they had too great a partiality for him." John- 
son. "Nay, Sir, the partiality of his friends was always 
against him. It was with difficulty we could give him a 
hearing. Goldsmith had no settled notions upon any sub- 
ject; so he talked always at random. It seemed to be his 
intention to blurt out whatever was in his mind, and see what 
would become of it. He was angry too, when catched in an 
absurdity; but it did not prevent him from falling into 
another the next minute. I remember Chamier, after talk- 
ing with him some time, said, 'Well, I do believe he wrote 
this poem himself: and, let me tell you, that is believing a 
great deal/ Chamier once asked him, what he meant by 
slow, the last word in the first line of The Traveller. 

1 Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow,' 

Did he mean tardiness of locomotion? Goldsmith, who 



Age 69] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 169 

would say something without consideration, answered, 'Yes.' 
I was sitting by, and said, 'No, Sir, you do not mean tardi- 
ness of locomotion; you mean, that sluggishness of mind 
which comes upon a man in solitude/ Chamier believed 
then that I had written the line, as much as if he had seen 
me write it. Goldsmith, however, was a man, who, whatever 
he wrote, did it better than any other man could do. He 
deserved a place in Westminster Abbey; and every year he 
lived, would have deserved it better. He had, indeed, been 
at no pains to fill his mind with knowledge. He transplanted 
it from one place to another; and it did not settle in his 
mind; so he could not tell what was in his own books." 

We talked of living in the country. Johnson. "No wise 
man will go to live in the country, unless he has something 
to do which can be better done in the country. For instance, 
if he is to shut himself up for a year to study a science, it is 
better to look out to the fields, than to an opposite wall. 
Then, if a man walks out in the country, there is nobody 
to keep him from walking in again; but if a man walks out 
in London, he is not sure when he shall walk in again. A 
great city is, to be sure, the school for studying life; and 
'The proper study of mankind is man/ as Pope observes." 
Bos well. "I fancy London is the best place for society; 
though I have heard that the very first society of Paris is 
still beyond any thing that we have here." Johnson. "Sir, 
I question if in Paris such a company as is sitting round this 
table could be got together in less than half a year. They 
talk in France of the felicity of men and women living to- 
gether: the truth is, that there the men are not higher than 
the women, they know no more than the women do, and they 
are not held down in their conversation by the presence of 
women." Ramsay. "Literature is upon the growth, it is 
in its spring in France: here it is rather passes." l Johnson. 
"Literature was in France long before we had it. Paris was 
the second city for the revival of letters: Italy had it first, 
to be sure. What have we done for literature, equal to what 
was done by the Stephani and others in France? Our liter- 
1 Past its prime. 



170 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1778 

ature came to us through France. Caxton printed only two 
books, Chaucer and Gower, that were not translations from 
the French; and Chaucer, we know, took much from the 
Italians. No, Sir, if literature be in its spring in France, it 
is a second spring; it is after a winter. We are now before 
the French in literature; but we had it long after them. In 
England, any man who wears a sword and a powdered wig 
is ashamed to be illiterate. I believe it is not so in France. 
Yet there is, probably, a great deal of learning in France, 
because they have such a number of religious establishments; 
so many men who have nothing else to do but study. I do 
not know this; but I take it upon the common principles of 
chance. Where there are many shooters, some will hit." 

We talked of old age. Johnson (now in his seventieth 
year) said, "It is a man's own fault, it is from want of use, 
if his mind grows torpid in old age." The Bishop asked, 
if an old man does not lose faster than he gets. Johnson. 
"I think not, my Lord, if he exerts himself." One of the 
company rashly observed, that he thought it was happy for 
an old man that insensibility comes upon him. Johnson, 
(with a noble elevation and disdain,) " No, Sir, I should never 
be happy by being less rational." His Lordship mentioned 
a charitable establishment in Wales, where people were 
maintained and supplied with everything, upon the condi- 
tion of their contributing the weekly produce of their labor; 
and he said, they grew quite torpid for want of property. 
Johnson. "They have no object for hope. Their condition 
cannot be better. It is rowing without a port." 

When we went to the drawing-room, there was a rich 
assemblage. Besides the company who had been at dinner, 
there were Mr. Garrick, Mr. Harris of Salisbury, Dr. Percy, 
Dr. Burney, the Honourable Mrs. Cholmondeley, Miss 
Hannah More, &c. &c. 

After wandering about in a kind of pleasing distraction for 
some time, I got into a corner, with Johnson, Garrick, and 
Harris. Garrick: (to Harris.) "Pray, Sir, have you read 
Potter's JEschylus?" Harris. "Yes, and think it pretty." 
Garrick. (to Johnson.) "And what think you, Sir, of it?" 



Age 69] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 171 

Johnson. "I thought what I read of it verbiage: but upon 
Mr. Harris's recommendation, I will read a play. (To Mr. 
Harris.) Don't prescribe two." Mr. Harris suggested one, 
I do not remember which. Johnson. "We must try its 
effect as an English poem; that is the way to judge of the 
merit of a translation. Translations are, in general, for 
people who cannot read the original." I mentioned the vulgar 
saying, that Pope's Homer was not a good representation 
of the original. Johnson. "Sir, it is the greatest work of 
the kind that has ever been produced." Boswell. "The 
truth is, it is impossible perfectly to translate poetry. In a 
different language it may be the same tune, but it has not 
the same tone. Homer plays it on a bassoon; Pope on a 
flageolet." Harris. "I think, heroic poetry is best in blank 
verse; yet it appears that rhyme is essential to English 
poetry, from our deficiency in metrical quantities. In my 
opinion, the chief excellence of our language is numerous 
prose." Johnson. "Sir William Temple was the first 
writer who gave cadence to English prose. Before this time 
they were careless of arrangement and did not mind whether 
a sentence ended with an important word or an insignificant 
word, or with what part of speech it was concluded." Mr. 
Langton, who now had joined us, commended Clarendon. 
Johnson. "He is objected to for his parentheses, his in- 
volved clauses, and his want of harmony. But he is sup- 
ported by his matter. It is, indeed, owing to a plethory of 
matter that his style is so faulty: every substance, (smiling 
to Mr. Harris,) has so many accidents. — To be distinct, we 
must talk analytically. If we analyze language, we must 
speak of it grammatically; if we analyze argument, we must 
speak of it logically." Garrick. "Of all the translations 
that ever were attempted, I think Elphinstone's Martial 
the most extraordinary. He consulted me upon it, who am 
a little of an epigrammatist myself, you know. I told him 
freely, 'You don't seem to have that turn.' I asked him 
if he was serious; and finding he was, I advised him against 
publishing. Why, his translation is more difficult to under- 
stand than the original; I thought him a man of some talents; 



172 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1778. 

but he seems crazy in this." Johnson. "Sir, you have 
done what I had not courage to do. But he did not ask my 
advice, and I did not force it upon him, to make him angry 
with me." Garrick. "But as a friend, Sir — " Johnson. 
"Why, such a friend as I am with him — no." Garrick. 
"But if you see a friend going to tumble over a precipice?" 
Johnson. "That is an extravagant case, Sir. You are sure 
a friend will thank you for hindering him from tumbling 
over a precipice: but, in the other case, I should hurt his 
vanity, and do him no good. He would not take my advice. 
His brother-in-law, Strahan, sent him a subscription of fifty 
pounds, and said he would send him fifty more, if he would 
not publish." Garrick. "What! eh! is Strahan a good 
judge of an Epigram? Is not he rather an obtuse man, eh?" 
Johnson. "Why, Sir, he may not be a judge of an Epigram: 
but you see he is a judge of what is not an Epigram." Bos- 
well. "It is easy for you, Mr. Garrick, to talk to an author 
as you talked to Elphinstone;^ you, who have been so long 
the manager of a theatre, rejecting the plays of poor authors. 
You are an old judge, who have often pronounced sentence 
of death. You are a practised surgeon, who have often 
amputated limbs; and though this may have been for the 
good of your patients, they cannot like you. Those who have 
undergone a dreadful operation are not very fond of seeing 
the operator again. " Garrick. "Yes, I know enough of 
that. There was a reverend gentleman, (Mr. Hawkins,) 
who wrote a tragedy, the Siege of something, which I refused." 
Harris. "So, the siege was raised." Johnson. "Ay, he 
came to me and complained; and told me, that Garrick 
said his play was wrong in the concoction. Now, what is 
the concoction of a play?" (Here Garrick started, and 
twisted himself, and seemed sorely vexed; for Johnson told 
me, he believed the story was true.) Garrick. "I — I — 
I — said, first concoction." Johnson, (smiling.) "Well, 
he left out first. And Rich, he said, refused him in false 
English: he could show it under his hand." Garrick. "He 
wrote to me in violent wrath, for having refused his play: 
'Sir, this is growing a very serious and terrible affair. I am 



Age 69] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 173 

resolved to publish my play. I will appeal to the world; 
and how will your judgment appear!' I answered, 'Sir, 
notwithstanding all the seriousness, and all the terrors, I 
have no objection to your publishing your play; and as you 
live at a great distance, (Devonshire, I believe,) if you will 
send it to me, I will convey it to the press/ I never heard 
more of it, ha! ha! ha!" 

We talked of war. Johnson. " Every man thinks meanly 
of himself for not having been a soldier, or not having been 
at sea." Boswell. "Lord Mansfield does not." Johnson. 
"Sir, if Lord Mansfield were in a company of General Officers 
and Admirals who have been in service, he would shrink; 
he'd wish to creep under the table." Boswell. "No; he'd 
think he could try them all." Johnson. "Yes, if he could 
catch them: but they'd try him much sooner. No, Sir: 
were Socrates and Charles the Twelfth of Sweden both present 
in any company, and Socrates to say, ' Follow me, and hear 
a lecture in philosophy;' and Charles, laying his hand on 
his sword, to sa}^, 'Follow me, and dethrone the Czar;' a 
man would be ashamed to follow Socrates. Sir, the impres- 
sion is universal: yet it is strange. As to the sailor, when 
you look down from the quarter-deck to the space below, 
you see the utmost extremity of human misery: such crowd- 
ing, such filth, such stench!" Boswell. "Yet sailors are 
happy." Johnson. "They are happy as brutes are happy, 
with a piece of fresh meat, with the grossest sensuality. 
But, Sir, the profession of soldiers and sailors has the dignity 
of danger. Mankind reverence those who have got over 
fear, which is so general a weakness." Scott. "But is not 
courage mechanical* and to be acquired?" Johnson. "Why 
yes, Sir, in a collective sense. Soldiers consider themselves 
only as parts of a great machine." Scott. "We find people 
fond of being sailors." Johnson. "I cannot account for 
that, any more than I can account for other strange perver- 
sions of imagination." 

His abhorrence of the profession of a sailor was uniformly 
violent; but in conversation he always exalted the profession 
of a soldier. And yet I have, in my large and various col- 



174 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1778 

lection of his writings, a letter to an eminent friend, in which 
he expresses himself thus: "My god-son called on me lately. 
He is weary, and rationally weary of a military life. If you 
can place him in some other state, I think you may increase 
his happiness, and secure his virtue. A soldier's time is 
passed in distress and danger, or in idleness and corruption." 
Such was his cool reflection in his study; but whenever he 
was warmed and animated by the presence of company, 
he, like other philosophers, whose minds are impregnated 
with poetical fancy, caught the common enthusiasm for 
splendid renown. 

He sometimes could not bear being teased with questions. 
I was once present when a gentleman asked so many, as, 
"What did you do, Sir?" "What did you say, Sir?" that he 
at last grew enraged, and said, "I will not be put to the 
question. Don't you consider, Sir, that these are not the 
manners of a gentleman? I will not be baited with what 
and why; what is this? what is that? why is a cow's tail 
long? Why is a fox's tail bushy?" The gentleman, who 
was a good deal out of countenance, said, "Why, Sir, you 
are so good, that I venture to trouble you." Johnson. 
"Sir, my being so good is no reason why you should be so ill." 

On Wednesday, April 15, I dined with Dr. Johnson at Mr. 
Dilly's. At Mr. Dilly's today were Mrs. Knowles, the in- 
genious Quaker lady, Miss Seward, the poetess of Lichfield, 
the Reverend Dr. Mayo, and the Rev. Mr. Beresford, tutor 
to the Duke of Bedford. Before dinner Dr. Johnson seized 
upon Mr. Charles Sheridan's Account of the late Revolu- 
tion in Sweden, and seemed to read it t ravenously, as if he 
devoured it, which was to all appearance his method of 
studying. "He knows how to read better than any one 
(said Mrs. Knowles); he gets at the substance of a book 
directly; he tears out the heart of it." He kept it wrapped 
up in the table-cloth in his lap during the time of dinner, 
from an avidity to have one entertainment in readiness, when 
he should have finished another; resembling (if I may use so 
coarse a simile) a dog who holds a bone in his paws in reserve, 
while he eats something else which has been thrown to him. 



Age 69] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 175 

Talking of Miss — , l a literary lady, he said "I was obliged 
to speak to Miss Reynolds, to let her know that I desired 
she would not flatter me so much." Somebody now ob- 
served, "She flatters Garrick." Johnson. "She is in the 
right to flatter Garrick. She is in the right for two reasons; 
first, because she has the world with her, who have been 
praising Garrick these thirty years; and secondly, because 
she is rewarded for it by Garrick. Why should she flatter 
me? I can do nothing for her. Let her carry her praise 
to a better market. (Then turning to Mrs. Knowles.) 
You, Madam, have been flattering me all the evening; I 
wish you would give Bos well a little now. If you knew his 
merit as well as I do, you would say a great deal; he is the 
best traveling companion in the world." 

We remained together till it was pretty late. Notwith- 
standing occasional explosions of violence, we were all de- 
lighted upon the whole with Johnson. I compared him at 
this time to a warm West Indian climate, where you have 
a bright sun, quick vegetation, luxuriant foliage, luscious 
fruits ; but where the same heat sometimes produces thunder, 
lightning, and earthquakes, in a terrible degree. 

And now I am to give a pretty full account of one of the 
most curious incidents in Johnson's life, of which he him- 
self has made the following minute on this day: "In my 
return from church, I was accosted by Edwards, an old fellow- 
collegian, who had not seen me since 1729. He knew me, and 
asked if I remembered one Edwards; I did not at first recol- 
lect the name, but gradually as we walked along, recovered 
it, and told him a conversation that had passed at an ale- 
house between us. My purpose is to continue our acquain- 
tance." 

It was in Butcher-row that this meeting happened. Mr. 
Edwards, who was a decent-looking elderly man in grey 
clothes, and a wig of many curls, accosted Johnson with 
familiar confidence, knowing who he was, while Johnson 
returned his salutation with a courteous formality, as to a 
stranger. But as soon as Edwards had brought to his recol- 
1 Hannah More. 



176 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1778 

lection their having been at Pembroke College together 
nine-and-forty years ago, he seemed much pleased, asked 
where he lived, and said he should be glad to see him in Bolt- 
court. Edwards. "Ah, Sir! we are old men now." John- 
son, (who never liked to think of being old:) " Don't let us 
discourage one another." Edwards. "Why, Doctor, you 
look stout and hearty, I am happy to see you so; for the 
newspapers told us you were very ill." Johnson. "Ay, 
Sir, they are always telling lies of us old fellows." 

Wishing to be present at more of so singular a conversation 
as that between two fellow-collegians, who had lived forty 
years in London without ever having chanced to meet, I whis- 
pered to Mr. Edwards that Dr. Johnson was going home, and 
that he had better accompany him now. So Edwards walked 
along with us, I eagerly assisting to keep up the conversation. 
Mr. Edwards informed Dr. Johnson that he had practised 
long as a solicitor in Chancery, but that he now lived in the 
country upon a little farm, about sixty acres, just by Steven- 
age in Hertfordshire, and that he came to London (to Bar- 
nard's Inn, No. 6,) generally twice a week. Johnson appear- 
ing to me in a reverie, Mr. Edwards addressed himself to me, 
and expatiated on the pleasure of living in the country. 
Bos well. "I have no notion of this, Sir. What you have 
to entertain you is, I think, exhausted in half an hour." 
Edwards. "What? don't you love to have hope realized? 
I see my grass, and my corn, and my trees growing. Now, 
for instance, I am curious to see if this frost has not nipped 
my fruit-trees." Johnson, (who we did not imagine was 
attending:) "You find, Sir, you have fears as well as hopes." 
— So well did he see the whole, when another saw but the 
half of a subject. 

When we got to Dr. Johnson's house, and were seated in 
his library, the dialogue went on admirably. Edwards. "Sir, 
I remember you would not let us say prodigious at College. 
For even then, Sir, (turning to me,) he was delicate in lan- 
guage, and we all feared him." Johnson, (to Edwards:) 
"From your having practised the law long, Sir, I presume you 
must be rich." Edwards. "No, Sir; I got a good deal of 



Age 69] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 177 

money; but I had a number of poor relations to whom I gave 
a great part of it." Johnson. "Sir, you have been rich in 
the most valuable sense of the word." Edwards. "But I 
shall not die rich." Johnson. "Nay, sure, Sir, it is better 
to live rich, than to die rich." Edwards. "I wish I had 
continued at College." Johnson. "Why do you wish that, 
Sir?" Edwards. "Because I think I should have had a 
much easier life than mine has been. I should have been a 
parson, and had a good living, like Bloxham and several 
others, and lived comfortably." Johnson. "Sir, the life of a 
parson, of a conscientious clergyman, is not easy. I have 
always considered a clergyman as the father of a larger 
family than he is able to maintain. I would rather have 
Chancery suits upon my hands than the cure of souls. No, 
Sir, I do not envy a clergyman's life as an easy life, nor do I 
envy the clergyman who makes it an easy life." — Here 
taking himself up all of a sudden, he exclaimed, "0! Mr. 
Edwards! I'll convince you that I recollect you. Do you 
remember our drinking together at an ale-house near Pem- 
broke gate? At that time, you told me of the Eton boy, who, 
when verses on our Saviour's turning water into wine were 
prescribed as an exercise, brought up a single line, which 
was highly admired : 

'Vidit et erubuit lympha pudica Deum.' 1 

and I told you of another fine line in Camden's Remains, an 
eulogy upon one of our Kings, who was succeeded by his son, 
a prince of equal merit : 

'Mira cano, Sol occubuit, nox nulla secuta est.'" 2 

Edwards. "You are a philosopher, Dr. Johnson. I have 
tried too in my time to be a philosopher; but, I don't know 
how, cheerfulness was always breaking in." — Mr. Burke, Sir 
Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Courtenay, Mr. Malone, and, indeed, all 
the eminent men to whom I have mentioned this, have 
thought it an exquisite trait of character. The truth is, that 

1 The modest water saw God and blushed. 

2 Wondrous things I sing: the sun sank to rest and no night 
followed. 



178 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1778 

philosophy, like religion, is too generally supposed to be hard 
and severe, at least so grave as to exclude all gaiety. 

Edwards. "I have been twice married, Doctor. You, I 
suppose, have never known what it was to have a wife." 
Johnson. "Sir, I have known what it was to have a wife, 
and (in a solemn tender faltering tone) I have known what 
it was to lose a wife. — It had almost broke my heart." 

Edwards. "How do you live, Sir? For my part, I must 
have my regular meals, and a glass of good wine. I find I 
require it." Johnson. "I now drink no wine, Sir. Early 
in life I drank wine; for many years I drank none. I then 
for some years drank a great deal." Edwards. "Some 
hogsheads, I warrant you." Johnson. "I then had a severe 
illness, and left it off, and I have never begun it again. I 
never felt any difference upon myself from eating one thing 
rather than another, nor from one kind of weather rather 
than another. There are people, I believe, who feel a differ- 
ence; but I am not one of them. And as to regular meals, 
1 1 have fasted from the Sunday's dinner to the Tuesday's 
dinner, without any inconvenience. I believe it is best to 
eat just as one is hungry: but a man who is in business, or a 
man who has a family, must have stated meals. I am a 
straggler. I may leave this town and go to Grand Cairo, 
without being missed here or observed there." Edwards. 
"Don't you eat supper, Sir?" Johnson. "No, Sir." Ed- 
wards. "For my part, now, I consider supper as a turn-pike 
through which one must pass, in order to get to bed." 

Johnson. "You are a lawyer, Mr. Edwards. Lawyers 
know life practically. A bookish man should always have 
them to converse with. They have what he wants." Ed- 
wards. "I am grown old: I am sixty-five." Johnson. "I 
shall be sixty-eight next birthday. Come, Sir, drink water, 
and put in for a hundred." 

Mr. Edwards mentioned a gentleman who had left his whole 
fortune to Pembroke College. Johnson. "Whether to leave 
one's whole fortune to a College be right must depend upon 
circumstances. I would leave the interest of the fortune I 
bequeathed to a College to my relations or my friends, for their 



Age 69] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 179 

lives. It is the same thing to a College, which is a permanent 
society, whether it gets the money now or twenty years hence; 
and I would wish to make my relations or friends feel the 
benefit of it." 

This interview confirmed my opinion of Johnson's most hu- 
mane and benevolent heart. His cordial and placid behavior 
to an old fellow collegian, a man so different from himself; 
and his telling him that he would go down to his farm and 
visit him, showed a kindness of disposition very rare at an 
advanced age. He observed, "How wonderful it was that 
they had both been in London forty years, without having 
ever once met, and both walkers in the street too!" Mr. 
Edwards, when going away, again recurred to his conscious- 
ness of senility, and looking full in Johnson's face, said to him, 
" You'll find in Dr. Young, 

1 O my coevals! remnants of yourselves. ' '* 

Johnson did not relish this at all; but shook his head with im- 
patience. Edwards walked off seemingly highly pleased 
with the honor of having thus been noticed by Dr. Johnson. 
When he was gone, I said to Johnson, I thought him but a 
weak man. Johnson. "Why, yes, Sir. Here is a man who 
has passed through life without experience: yet I would 
rather have him with me than a more sensible man who 
will not talk readily. This man is always willing to say 
what he has to say." Yet Dr. Johnson had himself by no 
means that willingness which he praised so much, and I 
think so justly; for who has not felt the painful effect of the 
dreary void, when there is a total silence in a company, for 
any length of time; or, which is as bad, or perhaps worse, 
when the conversation is with difficulty kept up by a perpetual 
effort? 

Johnson once observed to me, "Tom Tyers described me 
the best: 'Sir, (said he,) you are like a ghost; you never speak 
till you are spoken to. ' " 

On Saturday, April 18, I drank tea with him. He praised 
the late Mr. Duncombe, of Canterbury, as a pleasing man. 
"He used to come to me; I did not seek much after him. 



180 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1778 

Indeed I never sought much after anybody." Bos well. 
"Lord Orrery, I suppose." Johnson. "No, Sir; I never 
went to him but when he sent for me." Bos well. "Rich- 
ardson?" Johnson. "Yes, Sir. But I sought after George 
Psalmanazar the most. I used to go and sit with him at an 
alehouse in the city." 

The gentleman who had dined with us at Dr. Percy's came 
in. Johnson attacked the Americans with intemperate 
vehemence of abuse. I said something in their favor; and 
added, that I was always sorry, when he talked on that sub- 
ject. This, it seems, exasperated him; though he said 
nothing at the time. The cloud was charged with sulphu- 
reous vapor, which was afterwards to burst in thunder. — 
We talked of a gentleman who was running out his fortune 
in London; and I said, "We must get , him out of it. All 
his friends must quarrel with him, and that will soon drive 
him away." Johnson. "Nay, Sir, we'll send you to him. 
If your company does not drive a man out of his house, 
nothing will." This was a horrible shock, for which there 
was no visible cause. I afterwards asked him, why he had 
said so harsh a thing. Johnson. "Because, Sir, you made 
me angry about the Americans." Boswell. "But why did 
you not take your revenge directly?" Johnson, (smiling) 
"Because, Sir, I had nothing ready. A man cannot strike 
till he has his weapons." This was a candid and pleasant 
confession. 

On Saturday, May 2, I dined with him at Sir Joshua Rey- 
nolds's, where there was a very large company and a great 
deal of conversation; but owing to some circumstances 
which I cannot now recollect, I have no record of any part 
of it, except that there were several people there by no means 
of the Johnsonian school; so that less attention was paid to 
him than usual, which put him out of humor; and upon 
some imaginary offence from me, he attacked me with such 
rudeness, that I was vexed and angry, because it gave those 
persons an opportunity of enlarging upon his supposed fe- 
rocity and ill-treatment of his best friends. I was so much 
hurt, and had my pride so much roused, that I kept away 



Age 69] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 181 

from him for a week; and, perhaps might have kept away 
much longer, nay, gone to Scotland without seeing him again, 
had not we fortunately met and been reconciled. To such 
unhappy chances are human friendships liable. 

On Friday, May 8, I dined with him at Mr. Langton's. I 
was reserved and silent, which I suppose he perceived, and 
might recollect the cause. After dinner, when Mr. Langton 
was called out of the room, and we were by ourselves, he drew 
his chair near to mine, and said in a tone of conciliating cour- 
tesy, "Well, how have you done? " Boswell. "Sir, you have 
made me very uneasy by your behavior to me when we last 
were at Sir Joshua Reynolds's. You know, my dear Sir, no 
man has a greater respect and affection for you, or would 
sooner go to the end of the world to serve you. Now to treat 
me so — " He insisted that I had interrupted him, which I 
assured him was not the case; and proceeded — "But why 
treat me so before people who neither love you nor me?" 
Johnson. "Well, I am sorry for it. I'll make it up to you 
twenty different ways, as you please." Boswell. "I said 
today to Sir Joshua, when he observed that you tossed me 
sometimes — I don't care how often, or how high he tosses 
me, when only friends are present, for then I fall upon soft 
ground: but I do not like falling on stones, which is the case 
when enemies are present. — I think this a pretty good image, 
Sir." Johnson. "Sir, it is one of the happiest I have ever 
heard." 

The truth is, there was no venom in the wounds which he 
inflicted at any time, unless they were irritated by some 
malignant infusion by other hands. We were instantly as 
cordial again as ever, and joined in hearty laugh at some 
ludicrous but innocent peculiarities of one of our friends. 
Boswell. "Do you think, Sir, it is always culpable to laugh 
at a man to his face?" Johnson. "Why, Sir, that depends 
upon the man and the thing. If it is a slight man, and a 
slight thing, you may; for you take nothing valuable from 
him." 



CHAPTER XIII (1779-1781) 

The Lives of the English Poets 

The Collection of English Poets — Johnson on His Seventy-Second 
Birthday — Anecdote of Johnson by Langton — On Having One's 
Portrait Made — On Physical and Moral Truth — On Huggins and 
Warton — His Affection for Beauclerk — On Burke's Extraordinary 
Talents — On Affectation — On Rude Sayings — On Goldsmith — ■ 
Completion of The Lives of the Poets — Merits of This Work — The 
Life of Cowley — Of Waller — Of Pope — Of Swift — The Style of 
the Lives — Accusations Made Against it — Johnson's Rejoinder. 

This year Johnson gave the world a luminous proof that 
the vigor of his mind in all its faculties, whether memory, 
judgment, or imagination, was not in the least abated; for 
this year came out the first four volumes of his Prefaces, 
biographical and critical, to the most eminent of the English 
Poets, published by the booksellers of London. The remain- 
ing volumes came out in the year 1780. The Poets were 
selected by the several booksellers who had the honorary 
copyright, which is still preserved among them by mutual 
compact, notwithstanding the decision of the House of Lords 
against the perpetuity of Literary Property. We have his 
own authority, that by his recommendation the poems of 
Blackmore, Watts, Pomfret, and Yalden, were added to the 
collection. Of this work I shall speak more particularly 
hereafter. 

My readers will not be displeased at being told every slight 
circumstance of the manner in which Dr. Johnson contrived 
to amuse his solitary hours. He sometimes employed him- 
self in chemistry, sometimes in watering and pruning a vine, 
sometimes in small experiments, at which those who may 
smile should recollect that there are moments which admit 
of being soothed only by trifles. 

182 



Age 71] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 183 

On his birthday, Johnson has this note; "I am now begin- 
ning the seventy-second year of my life, with more strength 
of body and greater vigor of mind, than I think is common at 
that age." But still he complains of sleepless nights and idle 
days and forge tfulness, or neglect of resolutions. He thus 
pathetically expresses himself: " Surely I shall not spend my 
whole life with my own total disapprobation." 

"To James Boswell, Esq. 
"Dear Sir, 

"I am sorry to write you a letter that will not please you, 
and yet it is at last what I resolve to do. This year must 
pass without an interview; the summer has been foolishly 
lost, like many other of my summers and winters. I hardly 
saw a green field, but stayed in town to work, without work- 
ing much. 

"Mr. Thrale's loss of health has lost him the election; he 
is now going to Brighthelmston, and expects me to go with 
him; and how long I shall stay, I cannot tell. I do not much 
like the place, but yet I shall go, and stay while my stay is 
desired. We must, therefore, content ourselves with know- 
ing what we know as well as man can know the mind of man, 
that we love one another, and that we wish each other's 
happiness, and that the lapse of a year cannot lessen our 
mutual kindness. 

"I was pleased to be told that I accused Mrs. Boswell un- 
justly, in supposing that she bears me ill-will. I love you so 
much, that I would be glad to love all that love you, and that 
you love; and I have love very ready for Mrs. Boswell, if she 
thinks it worthy of acceptance. I hope all the young ladies 
and gentlemen are well. 

"I take a great liking to your brother. He tells me that 
his father received him kindly, but not fondly; however, you 
seem to have lived well enough at Auchinleck, while you 
stayed. Make your father as happy as you can. 

"You lately told me of your health: I can tell you in re- 
turn, that my health has been, for more than a year past, 
better than it has been for many years before. Perhaps it 



184 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1780 

may please God to give us some time together before we are 
parted. 

"I am, dear Sir, 

" Yours, most affectionately, 
"Sam. Johnson. 
"October 17, 1780." 

Being disappointed in my hopes of meeting Johnson this 
year, so that I could hear none of his admirable sayings, I 
shall compensate for this want by inserting a collection of 
them, for which I am indebted to my worthy friend Mr. Lang- 
ton, whose kind communications have been separately inter- 
woven in many parts of this work. Very few articles of this 
collection were committed to writing by himself, he not 
having that habit: which he regrets, and which those who 
know the numerous opportunities he had of gathering the 
rich fruits of Johnsonian wit and wisdom, must ever regret. 
I however found, in conversation with him, that a good store 
of Johnsoniana was treasured in his mind; and I compared 
it to Herculaneum, or some old Roman field, which, when 
dug, fully rewards the labor employed. The authenticity 
of every article is unquestionable. For the expression, I, 
who wrote them down in his presence, am partly answerable. 

"Having asked Mr. Langton if his father and mother had 
sat for their pictures, which he thought it right for each 
generation of a family to do, and being told they had opposed 
it, he said, ' Sir, among the anfractuosities of the human mind, 
I know not if it may not be one, that there is a superstitious 
reluctance to sit for a picture/" 

"John Gilbert Cooper related, that soon after the publica- 
tion of his Dictionary , Garrick being asked by Johnson what 
people said of it, told him, that among other animadversions, 
it was objected that he cited authorities which were beneath 
the dignity of such a work, and mentioned Richardson. 
'Nay, (said Johnson,) I have done worse than that: I have 
cited thee, David/" 

"When in good humor, he would talk of his own writings 
with a wonderful frankness and candor, and would even 



Age 71] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 185 

criticize them with the closest severity. One day, having 
read over one of his Ramblers, Mr. Langton asked him, how 
he liked that paper; he shook his head, and answered, 'too 
wordy.' At another time, when one was reading his tragedy 
of Irene to a company at a house in the country, he left the 
room: and somebody having asked him the reason of this, 
he replied, 'Sir, I thought it had been better.'" 

"He thus defined the difference between physical and 
moral truth: 'Physical truth is, when you tell a thing as it 
actually is. Moral truth is, when you tell a thing sincerely 
and precisely as it appears to you. I say such a one walked 
across the street; if he really did so, I told a physical truth. 
If I thought so, though I should have been mistaken, I told 
a moral truth.'" 

"Huggins, the translator of Ariosto, and Mr. Thomas 
Warton, in the early part of his literary life, had a dispute 
concerning that poet, of whom Mr. Warton, in his Observa- 
tions on Spenser's Fairy Queen, gave some account which 
Huggins attempted to answer with violence, and said, 'I will 
militate no longer against his nescience. ' Huggins was master 
of the subject, but wanted expression. Mr. Warton's knowl- 
edge of it was then imperfect, but his manner lively and 
elegant. Johnson said, 'It appears to me, that Huggins has 
ball without powder, and Warton powder without ball.'" 

"He would allow no settled indulgence of idleness upon 
principle, and always repelled every attempt to urge excuses 
for it. A friend one day suggested, that it was not whole- 
some to study soon after dinner. Johnson, 'Ah, Sir, don't 
give way to such a fancy. At one time of my life I had taken 
it into my head that it was not wholesome to study between 
breakfast and dinner.'" 

"His affection for Topham Beauclerk was so great, that 
when Beauclerk was laboring under that severe illness which 
at last occasioned his death, Johnson said, (with a voice 
faltering with emotion,) 'Sir, I would walk to the extent of 
the diameter of the earth to save Beauclerk.'" 

"He used to quote with great warmth, the saying of Aris- 
totle recorded by Diogenes Laertius, that there was the same 



186 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1780 

difference between one learned and unlearned, as between the 
living and the dead." 

"An eminent foreigner, when he was shown the British 
Museum, was very troublesome with many absurd inquiries. 
'Now there, Sir, (said he,) is the difference between an 
Englishman and a Frenchman. A Frenchman must be 
always talking, whether he knows anything of the matter or 
not; an Englishman is content to say nothing, when he has 
nothing to say. ' " 

"He used frequently to observe, that men might be very 
eminent in a profession, without our perceiving any particu- 
lar power of mind in them in conversation. 'It seems strange 
(said he) that a man should see so far to the right, who sees 
so short a way to the left. Burke is the only man whose 
common conversation corresponds with the general fame 
which he has in the world. Take up whatever topic you 
please, he is ready to meet you/" 

" Though he used to censure carelessness with great ve- 
hemence, he owned that he once, to avoid the trouble of 
locking up five guineas, hid them, he forgot where, so that he 
could not find them." 

"A gentleman who introduced his brother to Dr. Johnson, 
was earnest to recommend him to the Doctor's notice, which 
he did by saying, 'When we have sat together some time, 
you'll find my brother grow very entertaining/ — 'Sir, (said 
Johnson,) I can wait.'" 

"As Johnson always allowed the extraordinary talents of 
Mr. Burke, so Mr. Burke was fully sensible of the wonderful 
powers of Johnson. Mr. Langton recollects having passed 
an evening with both of them, when Mr. Burke repeatedly 
entered upon topics which it was evident he would have 
illustrated with extensive knowledge and richness of expres- 
sion; but Johnson always seized upon the conversation, in 
which, however, he acquitted himself in a most masterly 
manner. As Mr. Burke and Mr. Langton were walking 
home, Mr. Burke observed that Johnson had been very great 
that night; Mr. Langton joined in this, but added, he could 
have wished to hear more from another person; (plainly in- 



Age 72.] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 187 

timating that he meant Mr. Burke.) '0, no, (said Mr. 
Burke), it is enough for me to have rung the bell to him/" 

"Beauclerk having observed to him of one of their friends, 
that he was awkward at counting money, 'Why, Sir/ said 
Johnson, 'I am likewise awkward at counting money. But 
then, Sir, the reason is plain; I have had very little money 
to count.'" 

"He had an abhorrence of affectation. Talking of old Mr. 
Langton, of whom he said, 'Sir, you will seldom see such a 
gentleman, such are his stores of literature, such his knowledge 
in divinity, and such his exemplary life;' he added, 'and, 
Sir, he has no grimace, no gesticulation, no bursts of admira- 
tion on trivial occasions; he never embraces you with an 
overacted cordiality/" 

"Being in company with a gentleman who thought fit to 
maintain Dr. Berkeley's ingenious philosophy, that nothing 
exists but as perceived by some mind; when the gentleman 
was going away, Johnson said to him, 'Pray, Sir, don't leave 
us; for we may perhaps forget to think of you, and then you 
will cease to exist.'" 

"The late Mr. Fitzherbert told Mr. Langton, that Johnson 
said to him, 'Sir, a man has no more right to say an uncivil 
thing, than to act one; no more right to say a rude thing to 
another man than to knock him down.'" 

"Of Dr. Goldsmith he said, ' No man was more foolish when 
he had not a pen in his hand, or more wise when he had.'" 

"An observation of Bathurst's may be mentioned, which 
Johnson repeated, appearing to acknowledge it to be well 
founded; namely, it was somewhat remarkable how seldom, 
on occasion of coming into the company of any new person, 
one felt any wish or inclination to see him again." 

In 1781, Johnson at last completed his Lives of the Poets, 
of which he gives this account: "Some time in March I 
finished the Lives of the Poets, which I wrote in my usual way, 
dilatorily and hastily, unwilling to work, and working with 
vigor and haste." In a memorandum previous to this, he 
says of them: "Written, I hope, in such a manner as may 
tend to the promotion of piety." 



188 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1781 

This is the work, which of all Dr. Johnson's writings will 
perhaps be read most generally, and with most pleasure. 
Philology and biography were his favorite pursuits, and those 
who lived most in intimacy with him, heard him upon all 
occasions, when there was a proper opportunity, take de- 
light in expatiating upon the various merits of the English 
Poets: upon the niceties of their characters, and the events 
of their progress through the world which they contributed 
to illuminate. His mind was so full of that kind of informa- 
tion, and it was so well arranged in his memory, that in 
performing what he had undertaken in this way, he had little 
more to do than to put his thoughts upon paper; exhibiting 
first each Poet's life, and then subjoining a critical examina- 
tion of his genius and works. But when he began to write, 
the subject swelled in such a manner, that instead of prefaces 
to each poet, of no more than a few pages, as he had originally 
intended, he produced an ample, rich, and most entertaining 
view of them in every respect. The booksellers, justly 
sensible of the great additional value of the copyright, pre- 
sented him with another hundred pounds, over and above 
two hundred, for which his agreement was to furnish such 
prefaces as he thought fit. 

This was, however, but a small recompense for such a col- 
lection of biography, and such principles and illustrations of 
criticism, as, if digested and arranged in one system, by some 
modern Aristotle or Longinus, might form a code upon that 
subject, such as no other nation can show. As he was so 
good as to make me a present of the greatest part of the 
original, and indeed only manuscript of this admirable work, 
I have an opportunity of observing with wonder the correct- 
ness with which he rapidly struck off such glowing composi- 
tion. 

The Life of Cowley he himself considered as the best of the 
whole, on account of the dissertation which it contains on the 
Metaphysical Poets. Dryden, whose critical abilities were 
equal to his poetical, had mentioned them in his excellent 
Dedication of his Juvenal, but had barely mentioned them. 
Johnson has exhibited them at large, with such happy illus- 



Age 72] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 189 

tration from their writings, and in so luminous a manner, that 
indeed he may be allowed the full merit of novelty, and to 
have discovered to us, as it were, a new planet in the poetical 
hemisphere. 

In the Life of Waller, Johnson gives a distinct and animated 
narrative of public affairs in that variegated period, with 
strong yet nice touches of character ; and having a fair oppor- 
tunity to display his political principles, does it with an un- 
qualified manly confidence, and satisfies his readers how 
nobly he might have executed a Tory History of his country. 

So easy is his style in these Lives, that I do not recollect 
more than three uncommon or learned words; one, when 
giving an account of the approach of Waller's mortal disease, 
he says, "he found his legs grow tumid;" by using the ex- 
pression his legs swelled, he would have avoided this; and 
there would have been no impropriety in its being followed by 
the interesting question to his physician, "What that swelling 
meant?" Another, when he mentions that Pope had emitted 
proposals; when published or issued would have been more 
readily understood; and a third, when he calls Orrery and 
Dr. Delaney, writers both undoubtedly veracious; when true, 
honest, or faithful, might have been used. Yet, it must be 
owned, that none of these are hard or too big words: that 
custom would make them seem as easy as any others; and 
that a language is richer and capable of more beauty of 
expression, by having a greater variety of synonyms. 

I could, with pleasure, expatiate upon the masterly execu- 
tion of the Life of Dryden, which we have seen was one of 
Johnson's literary projects at an early period, and which it is 
remarkable, that after desisting from it, from a supposed 
scantiness of materials, he should, at an advanced age, have 
exhibited so amply. 

The Life of Pope was written by Johnson con amore, 1 both 
from the early possession which that writer had taken of his 
mind, and from the pleasure which he must have felt, in for 
ever silencing all attempts to lessen his poetical fame, by 
demonstrating his excellence, and pronouncing the following 
1 With love. 



190 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1781 

triumphant eulogium: " After all this, it is surely superfluous 
to answer the question that has once been asked, Whether 
Pope was a poet? otherwise than by asking in return, If Pope 
be not a poet where is poetry to be found? To circumscribe 
poetry by a definition, will only show the narrowness of the 
definer; though a definition which shall exclude Pope will 
not easily be made. Let us look round upon the present 
time, and back upon the past; let us enquire to whom the 
voice of mankind has decreed the wreath of poetry; let their 
productions be examined, and their claims stated, and the 
pretensions of Pope will be no more disputed." 

I remember once to have heard Johnson say, "Sir, a thou- 
sand years may elapse before there shall appear another man 
with a power of versification equal to that of Pope." That 
power must undoubtedly be allowed its due share in enhancing 
the value of his captivating composition. 

In the Life of Swift, it appears to me that Johnson had a 
certain degree of prejudice against that extraordinary man, 
of which I have elsewhere had occasion to speak. Mr. 
Thomas Sheridan imputed it to a supposed apprehension in 
Johnson, that Swift had not been sufficiently active in obtain- 
ing for him an Irish degree when it was solicited, but of this 
there was not sufficient evidence; and let me not presume to 
charge Johnson with injustice, because he did not think so 
highly of the writings of this author as I have done from my 
youth upwards. Yet that he had an unfavorable bias is 
evident, were it only from that passage in which he speaks of 
Swift's practice of saving, as, "first ridiculous and at last 
detestable;" and yet after some examination of circumstan- 
ces, finds himself obliged to own, that "it will perhaps appear 
that he only liked one mode of expense better than another, 
and saved merely that he might have something to give." 

While the world in general was filled with admiration of 
Johnson's Lives of the Poets, there were narrow circles in 
which prejudice and resentment were fostered, and from which 
attacks of different sorts issued against him. By some 
violent Whigs he was arraigned of injustice to Milton; by 
some Cambridge men of depreciating Gray; and his express- 



Age 72] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 191 

ing with a dignified freedom what he really thought of George, 
Lord Lyttelton, gave offence to some of the friends of that 
nobleman, and particularly produced a declaration of war 
against him from Mrs. Montagu, the ingenious essayist on 
Shakespeare, between whom and his lordship a commerce of 
reciprocal compliments had long been carried on. In this 
war the smallest powers in alliance with him were of course 
led to engage, at least on the defensive. These minute in- 
conveniences gave not the least disturbance to Johnson. He 
nobly said when I talked to him of the feeble, though shrill 
outcry which had been raised, "Sir, I considered myself as 
entrusted with a certain portion of truth. I have given my 
opinion sincerely; let them show where they think me wrong. " 



CHAPTER XIV (1781-1783) 

The Death of Thrale: Johnson Feels the Weakness 
of Old Age 

Boswell in London — Johnson's Manner of Walking — The Illness 
of Thrale — Johnson a Wine-Drinker Again — Johnson on the 
Society of Ladies — The Death of Thrale — An Essential Loss to 
Johnson — The Sale of fThrale's Brewery — "A Pretty Book called 
The Rambler" — At Mrs. Garrick's — Johnson on Courting the 
Great — Johnson's Resolutions of Diligence — Johnson's Ailments 
Increase — A Letter to Langton — Rules for a Long Journey — 
Mrs. Boswell and Johnson — Johnson Leaves Streatham for the 
Last Time — Johnson on Being a "Laird" — On the Scotch — On 
an Old Man's "Intellects" — On "the Laughers" — On the " Met- 
aphysical Tailor" — Johnson's Clearness in Expression — His At- 
tention to Details — On English Reserve — His Love of Little Chil- 
dren — His Fondness for Animals — Johnson's Cat Hodge — On 
Being in Parliament — On Cant — Johnson has a Stroke of the 
Palsy — His Fortitude and Patience — He Suffers from the Gout 
and Asthma. 

On Monday, March 19, I arrived in London, and on 
Tuesday, the 20th, met him in Fleet-street, walking, or rather 
indeed moving along; for his peculiar march is thus described 
in a very just and picturesque manner, in a short Life of him 
published very soon after his death: — "When he walked 
the streets, what with the constant roll of his head and the 
concomitant motion of his body, he appeared to make his 
way by that motion, independent of his feet." That he 
was often much stared at while he advanced in this manner 
may easily be believed; but it was not safe to make sport 
of one so robust as he was. Mr. Langton saw him one day, 
in a fit of absence, by a sudden start, drive the load off a 
porter's back, and walk forward briskly, without being con- 
scious of what he had done. The porter was very angry, 
but stood still, and eyed the huge figure with much earnest- 
ness, till he was satisfied that his wisest course was to be 
quiet, and take up his burden again. 

192 



Age 72] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 193 

Our accidental meeting in the street after a long separa- 
tion was a pleasing surprise to us both. He stepped aside with 
me into Falcon-court, and made kind enquiries about my 
family, and as we were in a hurry going different ways, I 
promised to call on him next day; he said he was engaged 
to go out in the morning. "Early, Sir?" said I. Johnson. 
"Why, Sir, a London morning does not go with the 
sun." 

I found on visiting his friend, Mr. Thrale, that he was now 
very ill, and had removed, I suppose by the solicitation of 
Mrs. Thrale, to a house in Grosvenor-square. I was sorry 
to see him sadly changed in appearance. 

He told me I might now have the pleasure to see Dr. John- 
son drink wine again, for he had lately returned to it. When I 
mentioned this to Johnson, he said, " I drink it now sometimes, 
but not socially." The first evening that I was with him at 
Thrale's, I observed he poured a large quantity of it into 
a glass, and swallowed it greedily. Everything about his 
character and manners was forcible and violent; there never 
was any moderation; many a day did he fast, many a year 
did he refrain from wine; but when he did eat, it was vora- 
ciously; when he did drink wine, it was copiously. He 
could practice abstinence, but not temperance. 

He said, "Mrs. Montagu has dropped me. Now, Sir, there 
are people whom one should like very well to drop, but 
w T ould not wish to be dropped by." He certainly was vain 
of the society of ladies, and could make himself very agree- 
able to them, when he chose it; Sir Joshua Reynolds agreed 
with me that he could. Mr. Gibbon, with his usual sneer, 
controverted it, perhaps in resentment of Johnson's having 
talked with some disgust of his ugliness, which one would 
think a philosopher would not mind. Dean Marlay wittily 
observed, "A lady may be vain, when she can turn a wolf- 
dog into a lap-dog." 

On Friday, March 30, I dined with him at Sir Joshua Rey- 
nolds's, with the Earl of Charlemont, Sir Annesley Stewart, 
Mr. Eliot, of Port-Eliot, Mr. Burke, Dean Marlay, Mr. 
Lang ton; a most agreeable day, of which I regret that every 



194 s LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1781 

circumstance is not preserved; but it is unreasonable to 
require such a multiplication of felicity. 

On Sunday, April 1, I dined with him at Mr. Thrale's, with 
Sir Philip Jennings Clerk and Mr. Perkins, who had the super- 
intendence of Mr. Thrale's brewery, with a salary of five hun- 
dred pounds a year. Mr. Thrale appeared very lethargic 
today. I saw him again on Monday evening, at which time 
he was not thought to be in immediate danger; but early in 
the morning of Wednesday the 4th, he expired. Johnson 
was in the house, and thus mentions the event: "I felt almost 
the last flutter of his pulse, and looked for the last time upon 
the face that for fifteen years had never been turned upon 
me but with respect and benignity. " Upon that day there 
was a Call of the Literary Club; but Johnson apologized for 
his absence by the following note: 

"Mr. Johnson knows that Sir Joshua Reynolds and the 
other gentlemen will excuse his incompliance with the Call, 
when they are told that Mr. Thrale died this morning. " 

11 Wednesday. " 

Mr. Thrale's death was a very essential loss to Johnson, 
who, although he did not foresee all that afterwards happened, 
was sufficiently convinced that the comforts which Mr. 
Thrale's family afforded him, would now in a great measure 
cease. He, however, continued to show a kind attention to 
his widow and children as long as it was acceptable: and he 
took upon him, with a very earnest concern, the office of one 
of his executors, the importance of which seemed greater than 
usual to him, from his circumstances having been always 
such, that he had scarcely any share in the real business of 
life. His friends of the Club were in hopes that Mr. Thrale 
might have made a liberal provision for him for his life, 
which, as Mr. Thrale left no son, and a very large fortune, it 
would have been highly to his honor to have done; and, 
considering Dr. Johnson's age, could not have been of long 
duration; but he bequeathed him only two hundred pounds, 
which was the legacy given to each of his executors. I could 
not but be somewhat diverted by hearing Johnson talk in a 
pompous manner of his new office, and particularly of the 



Age 72] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 195 

concerns of the brewery, which it was at last resolved should 
be sold. Lord Lucan tells a very good story, which, if not 
precisely exact, is certainly characteristical : that when the 
sale of Thrale's brewery was going forward, Johnson appeared 
bustling about, with an ink-horn and pen in his button-hole, 
like an excise-man; and on being asked what he really con- 
sidered to be the value of the property which was to be dis- 
posed of, answered, "We are not here to sell a parcel of boilers 
and vats, but the potentiality of growing rich beyond the 
dreams of avarice." 

On Friday, April 13, being Good Friday, I went to St. Clem- 
ent's church with him as usual. There I saw again his old 
fellow-collegian, Edwards, to whom I said, "I think, Sir, Dr. 
Johnson and you meet only at Church." "Sir, (said he,) it is 
the best place we can meet in, except Heaven, and I hope we 
shall meet there too." Dr. Johnson told me, that there was 
very little communication between Edwards and him, after 
their unexpected renewal of acquaintance. "But (said he, 
smiling) he met me once, and said, ' I am told you have written 
a very pretty book called The Rambler.' I was unwilling 
that he should leave the world in total darkness, and sent 
him a set." 

On Friday, April 20, I spent with him one of the happiest 
days that I remember to have enjoyed in the whole course 
of my life. Mrs. Garrick, whose grief for the loss of her hus- 
band was, I believe, as sincere as wounded affection and 
admiration could produce, had this day, for the first time 
since his death, a select party of his friends to dine with her. 
The company was, Miss Hannah More, who lived with her, 
and whom she called her Chaplain; Mrs. Boscawen, Mrs. 
Elizabeth Carter, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Dr. Burney, Dr. 
Johnson, and myself. We found ourselves very elegantly 
entertained at her house in the Adelphi, where I have passed 
many a pleasing hour with him "who gladdened life." She 
looked well, talked of her husband with complacency, and while 
she cast her eyes on his portrait, which hung over the chimney- 
piece, said, that "death was now the most agreeable object to 
her." The very semblance of David Garrick was cheering. 



196 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1781 

We were all in fine spirits; and I whispered to Mrs. Bos- 
cawen, "I believe this is as much as can be made of life." In 
addition to a splendid entertainment, we were regaled with 
Lichfield Ale, which had a peculiar appropriate value. Sir 
Joshua, and Dr. Burney, and I, drank cordially of it to Dr. 
Johnson's health; and though he would not join us, he as cor- 
dially answered, " Gentlemen, I wish you all as well as you do 
me." 

I asked him, if he was not dissatisfied with having so small 
a share of wealth, and none of those distinctions in the state 
which are the objects of ambition. He had only a pension 
of three hundred a year. Why was he not in such circum- 
stances as to keep his coach? Why had he not some consider- 
able office? Johnson. "Sir, I have never complained of 
the world; nor do I think that I have reason to complain. 
It is rather to be wondered at that I have so much. My 
pension is more out of the usual course of things than any 
instance that I have known. Here, Sir, was a man avowedly 
no friend to Government at the time, who got a pension 
without asking for it. I never courted the great; they sent 
for me; but I think they now give me up. They are satis- 
fied: they have seen enough of me." Upon my observing 
that I could not believe this; for they must certainly be 
highly pleased by his conversation; conscious of his own 
superiority, he answered, "No, Sir; great Lords and great 
Ladies don't love to have their mouths stopped." This was 
very expressive of the effect which the force of his under- 
standing and brilliancy of his fancy could not but produce; 
and, to be sure, they must have found themselves strangely 
diminished in his company. When I warmly declared how 
happy I was at all times to hear him; — "Yes, Sir, (said he); 
but if you were Lord Chancellor, it would not be so; you 
would then consider your own dignity." 

In one of his little memorandom-books is the following 
minute : 

"August 9, 3 p.m., aetat. 72, in the summer-house at 
Streatham. 

"After innumerable resolutions formed and neglected, I 



Age 73] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 197 

have retired hither, to plan a life of greater diligence, in hope 
that I may yet be useful, and be daily better prepared to 
appear before my Creator and my Judge, from whose infinite 
mercy I humbly call for assistance and support. 

"My purpose is, 

"To pass eight hours every day in some serious employment. 

" Having prayed, I purpose to employ the next six weeks 
upon the Italian language, for my settled study." 

How venerably pious does he appear in these moments of 
solitude, and how spirited are his resolutions for the improve- 
ment of his mind, even in elegant literature, at a very advanced 
period of life, and when afflicted with many complaints. 

In 1782, his complaints increased, and the history of his 
life this year is little more than a mournful recital of the 
variations of his illness, in the midst of which, however, it 
will appear from his letters, that the powers of his mind were 
in no degree impaired. 

" To Captain Langton, in Rochester. 
"Dear Sir, 

"It is now long since we saw one another; and, whatever 
has been the reason, neither you have written to me, nor I 
to you. To let friendship die away by negligence and silence 
is certainly not wise. It is voluntarily to throw away one 
of the greatest comforts of this weary pilgrimage, of which 
when it is, as it must be, taken finally away, he that travels 
on alone, will wonder how his esteem could be so little. Do 
not forget me; you see that I do not forget you. It is pleas- 
ing in the silence of solitude to think, that there is one at 
least, however distant, of whose benevolence there is little 
doubt, and whom there is yet hope of seeing again. 

"Of my life, from the time we parted, the history is mourn- 
ful. The spring of last year deprived me of Thrale, a man 
whose eye for fifteen years had scarcely been turned upon 
me but with respect or tenderness; for such another friend 
the general course of human things will not suffer man to 
hope. I passed the Summer at Streatham, but there was no 
Thrale; and having idled away the summer with a weakly 



198 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1782 

body and neglected mind, I made a journey to Staffordshire 
on the edge of winter. The season was dreary, I was sickly, 
and found the friends sickly whom I went to see. After a 
sorrowful sojourn, I returned to a habitation possessed for 
the' present by two sick women, where my dear old friend, 
Mr. Levett, to whom, as he used to tell me, I owe your ac- 
quaintance, died a few weeks ago, suddenly in his bed; there 
passed not, I believe, a minute between health and death. 
At night, as at Mrs. Thrale's I was musing in my chamber, I 
thought with uncommon earnestness, that however I might 
alter my mode of life, or whithersoever I might remove, I 
would endeavor to retain Levett about me; in the morning 
my servant brought me word that Levett was called to another 
state, a state for which, I think, he was not unprepared, for he 
was very useful to the poor. How much soever I valued him, 
I now wish that I had valued him more. 

"I have myself been ill more than eight weeks of a dis- 
order, from which, at the expense of about fifty ounces of 
blood, I hope I am now recovering. 

"You, dear Sir, have, I hope, a more cheerful scene; you 
see George fond of his book, and the pretty misses airy and 
lively, with my own little Jenny equal to the best: and in 
whatever can contribute to your quiet or pleasure, you have 
Lady Rothes ready to concur. May whatever you enjoy of 
good be increased, and whatever you surfer of evil be dimin- 
ished. I am, dear Sir, 

"Your humble servant, 
"Bolt-court, Fleet-street, "Sam. Johnson." 

"March 20, 1782." 

" To Mr. Perkins. 
"Dear Sir, 

" I am much pleased that you are going a very long journey, 
which may by proper conduct restore your health and prolong 
your life. 

"Observe these rules: 

"1. Turn all care out of your head as soon as you mount 
the chaise. 



Age 73] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 199 

"2. Do not think about frugality; your health is worth 
more than it can cost. 

"3. Do not continue any day's journey to fatigue. 

"4. Take now and then a day's rest. 

"5. Get a smart sea sickness, if you can. 

"6. Cast away all anxiety, and keep your mind easy. 

"This last direction is the principal; with an unquiet 
mind, neither exercise, nor diet, not physic can be of much 
use. 

"I wish you, dear Sir, a prosperous journey, and a happy 
recovery. I am, dear Sir, 

"Your most affectionate, humble servant, 

"Sam. Johnson. " 
"July 28, 1782." 

My wife was now so much convinced of his sincere friend- 
ship for me, and regard for her, that, without any suggestion 
on my part, she wrote him a very polite and grateful letter. 

"Dr. Johnson to Mrs. BoswelL 
"Dear Lady, 

"I have not often received so much pleasure as from your 
invitation to Auchinleck. The journey thither and back is, 
indeed, too great for the latter part of the year, but if my 
health were fully recovered, I would suffer no little heat and 
cold, nor a wet or a rough road to keep me from you. I am, 
indeed, not without hope of seeing Auchinleck again; but to 
make it a pleasant place I must see its lady well, and brisk, 
and airy. For my sake, therefore, among many greater 
reasons, take care, dear Madam, of your health; spare no 
expense, and want no attendance that can procure ease, or 
preserve it. Be very careful to keep your mind quiet; and 
do not think it too much to give an account of your recovery 
to, Madam, 

" Yours, &c. 

"Sam. Johnson." 
"London, Sept. 7, 1782." 



200 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1783 

The death of Mr. Thrale had made a very material alter- 
ation with respect to Johnson's reception in that family. 
The manly authority of the husband no longer curbed the 
lively exuberance of the lady; and as her vanity had been 
fully gratified, by having the Colossus of Literature attached 
to her for many years, she gradually became less assiduous 
to please him. Whether her attachment to him was already 
divided by another object, I am unable to ascertain; but it 
is plain that Johnson's penetration was alive to her neglect 
or forced attention; for on the 6th of October this year, we 
find him making a "parting use of the library" at Streatham, 
and pronouncing a prayer, which he composed on leaving 
Mr. Thrale's family. 

"Almighty God, Father of all mercy, help me by thy grace, 
that I may, with humble and sincere thankfulness, remember 
the comforts and conveniences which I have enjoyed at this 
place; and that I may resign them with holy submission, 
equally trusting in thy protection when Thou givest, and when 
Thou takest away. Have mercy upon me, Lord, have 
mercy upon me. 

"To thy fatherly protection, Lord, I commend this 
family. Bless, guide, and defend them, that they may so 
pass through this world, as finally to enjoy in thy presence 
everlasting happiness, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen." 

One cannot read this prayer, without some emotions not 
very favorable to the lady whose conduct occasioned it. 

On Friday, March 21, [1783] having arrived in London the 
night before, I was glad to find him at Mrs. Thrale's house, in 
Argyll-street, appearances of friendship between them being 
still kept up. I was shown into his room, and after the first 
salutation he said, "I am glad you are come: I am very ill." 
He looked pale, and was distressed with a difficulty of breath- 
ing: but after the common inquiries he assumed his usual 
strong animated style of conversation. Seeing me now for 
the first time as a Laird, or proprietor of land, he began thus : 
"Sir, the superiority of a country-gentleman over the people 
upon his estate is very agreeable: and he who says he does 
not feel it to be agreeable, lies; for it must be agreeable to 



Age 74] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 201 

have a casual superiority over those who are by nature equal 
with us." Boswell. "Yet, Sir, we see great proprietors of 
land who prefer living in London." Johnson. "Why, Sir, 
the pleasure of living in London, the intellectual superiority 
that is enjoyed there, may counterbalance the other. Be- 
sides, Sir, a man may prefer the state of the country-gentle- 
man upon the whole, and yet there may never be a moment 
when he is willing to make the change, to quit London for it." 

He repeated to me his verses on Mr. Levett, with an emo- 
tion which gave them full effect; and then he was pleased 
to say, "You must be as much with me as you can. You 
have done me good. You cannot think how much better 
I am, since you came in." 

He sent a message to acquaint Mrs. Thrale that I had 
arrived. I had not seen her since her husband's death. She 
soon appeared, and favored me with an invitation to stay 
to dinner, which I accepted. There was no other company 
but herself and three of her daughters, Dr. Johnson and I. 
She too said, she was very glad I was come, for she was going 
to Bath, and should have been sorry to leave Dr. Johnson 
before I came. This seemed to be attentive and kind; and 
I who had not been informed of any change, imagined all 
to be as well as formerly. He was little inclined to talk at 
dinner, and went to sleep after it; but when he joined us in 
the drawing-room, he seemed revived, and was again himself. 

After musing for some time, he said, "I wonder how I 
should have any enemies; for I do harm to nobody." Bos- 
well. "In the first place, Sir, you will be pleased to recollect 
that you set out with attacking the Scotch; so you got a 
whole nation for your enemies." Johnson. "Why, I own, 
that by my definition of oats I meant to vex them." Boswell. 
"Pray, Sir, can you trace the cause of your antipathy to 
the Scotch?" Johnson. "I cannot, Sir." Boswell. "Old 
Mr. Sheridan says, it was because they sold Charles the 
First." Johnson. "Then, Sir, old Mr. Sheridan has found 
out a very good reason." 

He observed, "There is a wicked inclination in most people 
to suppose an old man decayed in his intellects. If a young or 



202 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1783; 

middle-aged man, when leaving a company, does not recollect 
where he laid his hat, it is nothing; but if the same inatten- 
tion is discovered in an old man, people will shrug up their 
shoulders and say, 'His memory is going. '" 

He said, "A man should pass a part of his time with the 
laughers, by which means anything ridiculous or particular 
about him might be presented to his view, and corrected." l 

Mr. Hoole told him, he was born in Moorflelds, and had re- 
ceived part of his early instruction in Grub-street. "Sir, 
(said Johnson, smiling) you have been regularly educated." 
Having asked who was his instructor, and Mr. Hoole having 
answered: "My uncle, Sir, who was a tailor;" Johnson, 
recollecting himself, said, "Sir, I knew him; we called him 
the metaphysical tailor. He was of a club in Old-street, with 
me and George Psalmanazar, and some others: but pray, 
Sir, was he a good tailor?" Mr. Hoole having answered 
that he believed he was too mathematical, and used to draw 
squares and triangles on his shop-board, so that he did not 
excel in the cut of a coat; — "I am sorry for it, (said Johnson,) 
for I would have every man to be master of his own business. " 

Johnson's attention to precision and clearness in expression 
was very remarkable. He disapproved of a parenthesis; and 
I believe in all his voluminous writings, not half a dozen of 
them will be found. He never used the phrases the former 
and the latter, having observed that they often occasioned 
obscurity; he therefore contrived to construct his sentences 
so as not to have occasion for them, and would even rather 
repeat the same words, in order to avoid them. Nothing is 
more common than to mistake surnames, when we hear them 
carelessly uttered for the first time. To prevent this, he 
used not only to pronounce them slowly and distinctly, but 
to take the trouble of spelling them; a practice which I 
have often followed, and which I wish were general. 

Such was the heat and irritability of his blood, that not 
only did he pare his nails to the quick, but scraped the joints 
of his fingers with a pen-knife, till they seemed quite red and 
raw. 

From Sir Joshua Reynolds's recollections. 



Age 74] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 203 

The heterogeneous composition of human nature was re- 
markably exemplified in Johnson. His liberality in giving 
his money to persons in distress was extraordinary. Yet there 
lurked about him a propensity to paltry saving. One day 
I owned to him, that "I was occasionally troubled with a fit 
of narrowness" "Why, Sir, (said he,) so am I. Bid I do 
not tell it." He has now and then borrowed a shilling of me; 
and when I asked him for it again, seemed to be rather out 
of humor. A droll little circumstance once occurred: As if 
he meant to reprimand my minute exactness as a creditor, 
he thus addressed me; — "Boswell, lend me sixpence — not 
to be repaid" 

This great man's attention to small things was very remark- 
able. As an instance of it, he one day said to me, "Sir, when 
you get silver in change for a guinea, look carefully at it; 
you may find some curious piece of coin." 

Though a stern true-born Englishman, and fully prejudiced 
against all other nations, he had discernment enough to see, 
and candor enough to censure, the cold reserve too common 
among Englishmen towards strangers: "Sir, (said he,) two 
men of any other nation who are shown into a room together, 
at a house where they are both visitors, will immediately 
find some conversation. But two Englishmen will probably 
go each to a different window, and remain in obstinate silence. 
Sir, we as yet do not enough understand the common rights 
of humanity." 

His acute observation of human life made him remark, 
"Sir, there is nothing by which a man exasperates most 
people more, than by displaying a superior ability or bril- 
liancy in conversation. They seem pleased at the time; but 
their envy makes them curse him at their hearts." 

Johnson's love of little children, which he discovered upon 
all occasions, calling them "pretty dears," and giving them 
sweetmeats, was an undoubted proof of the real humanity 
and gentleness of his disposition. 

His uncommon kindness to his servants, and serious con- 
cern, not only for their comfort in this world, but their happi- 
ness in the next, was another unquestionable evidence of 



204 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1783 

what all, who were intimately acquainted with him, knew to 
be true. 

Nor would it be just under this head, to omit the fondness 
which he showed for animals which he had taken under his 
protection. I never shall forget the indulgence with which 
he treated Hodge, his cat; for whom he himself used to go 
out and buy oysters, lest the servants, having that trouble, 
should take a dislike to the poor creature. I am, unluckily, 
one of those who have an antipathy to a cat, so that I am 
uneasy when in the room with one; and I own, I frequently 
suffered a good deal from the presence of this same Hodge. 
I recollect him one day scrambling up Dr. Johnson's breast, 
apparently with much satisfaction, while my friend smiling 
and half-whistling, rubbed down his back, and pulled him 
by the tail; and when I observed he was a fine cat, saying 
"Why, yes, Sir, but I have had cats whom I liked better than 
this ; " and then as if perceiving Hodge to be out of countenance, 
adding, "But he is a very fine cat, a very fine cat indeed." 

I have no minute of any interview with Johnson till Thurs- 
day, May 15th, when I find what follows: Boswell. "I wish 
much to be in Parliament, Sir." Johnson. "Why, Sir, 
unless you come resolved to support any administration, 
you would be the worse for being in Parliament, because 
you would be obliged to live more expensively." Boswell. 
"Perhaps, Sir, I should b^ the less happy for being in Par- 
liament. I never would sell my vote, and I should be vexed 
if things went wrong." Johnson. "That's cant, Sir. It 
would not vex you more in the house than in the gallery: 
public affairs vex no man." Boswell. "Have not they 
vexed yourself a little, Sir? Have not you been vexed by all 
the turbulence of this reign, and by that absurd vote of the 
House of Commons, 'That the influence of the Crown has in- 
creased, is increasing, and ought to be diminished?'" John- 
son. "Sir, I have never slept an hour less, nor eat an ounce 
less meat. I would have knocked the factious dogs on the 
head, to be sure; but I was not vexed." Boswell. "I declare, 
Sir, upon my honor, I did imagine I was vexed, and took a 
pride in it; but it was, perhaps, cant; for I own I neither 



Age 74] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 205 

eat less, nor slept less." Johnson. "My dear friend, clear 
your mind of cant. You may talk as other people do; you 
may say to a man, 'Sir, I am your most humble servant/ 
You are not his most humble servant. You may say, ' These 
are bad times; it is a melancholy thing to be reserved to 
such times/ You don't mind the times. You tell a man, 
'I am sorry you had such bad weather the last day of your 
journey, and were so much wet/ You don't care six-pence 
whether he is wet or dry. You may talk in this manner; 
it is a mode of talking in Society: but don't think foolishly. " 

On Friday, May 29, being to set out for Scotland next 
morning, I passed a part of the day with him in more than 
usual earnestness; as his health was in a more precarious 
state than at any time when I had parted from him. He, 
however, was quick and lively, and critical, as usual. I 
mentioned one who was a very learned man. Johnson. 
" Yes, Sir, he has a great deal of learning; but it never lies 
straight. There is never one idea by the side of another: 
His all entangled: and then he drives it so awkwardly upon 
conversation!" 

I assured him, that in the extensive and various range of 
his acquaintance there never had been any one who had a 
more sincere respect and affection for him than I had. He 
said, "I believe it, Sir. Were I in distress, there is no man 
to whom I should sooner come than to you. I should like 
to come and have a cottage in your park, toddle about, live 
mostly on milk, and be taken care of by Mrs. Bos well. She 
and I are good friends now; are we not?" 

He embraced me, and gave me his blessing, as usual when I 
was leaving him for any length of time. I walked from his 
door today, with a fearful apprehension of what might happen 
before I returned. 

My anxious apprehensions at parting with him this year 
proved to be but too well founded ; for not long afterwards he 
had a dreadful stroke of the palsy, of which there are very 
full and accurate accounts in letters written by himself to 
show with what composure of mind, and resignation to the 
Divine Will his steady piety enabled him to behave. 



206 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1783 

" To Mr. Edmund Allen. 
"Dear Sir, 

"It has pleased God, this morning to deprive me of the 
powers of speech; and as I do not know but that it may be 
his further good pleasure to deprive me soon of my senses, I 
request you will, on the receipt of this note, come to me, and 
act for me, as the exigencies of my case may require. 

"lam, 

" Sincerely vours, 
61 June 17, 1783." "Sam. Johnson." 

Such was the general vigor of his constitution, that he 
recovered from this alarming and severe attack with won- 
derful quickness; so that in July he was able to make a visit 
to Mr. Langton at Rochester, where he passed about a fort- 
night, and made little excursions as easily as at any time of 
his life. In August he went as far as the neighborhood of 
Salisbury, to Heale, the seat of William Bowles, Esq. a gen- 
tleman whom I have heard him praise for exemplary religious 
order in his family. In his diary I find a short but honorable 
mention of this visit: "August 28, I came to Heale without 
fatigue. 30. I am entertained quite to my mind." 

His fortitude and patience met with severe trials during 
this year. The stroke of the palsy has been related circum- 
stantially; but he was also afflicted with the gout, and was 
besides troubled with a complaint which not only was at- 
tended with immediate inconvenience, but threatened him 
with a chirurgical operation, from which most men would 
shrink. The complaint was a sarcocele, which Johnson bore 
with uncommon firmness, and was not at all frightened while 
he looked forward to amputation. He was attended by Mr. 
Pott and Mr. Cruikshank. 

Happily the complaint abated without his being put to 
the torture of amputation. But we must surely admire the 
manly resolution which he discovered, while it hung over 
him. 

In a letter to the same gentleman 1 he writes, " The gout has 
1 Bennet Langton. 



Age 74] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 207 

within these four days come upon me with a violence which I 
never experienced before. It made me helpless as an infant.' 7 

— And in another, having mentioned Mrs. Williams, he says, 

— "whose death following that of Levett has now made my 
house a solitude. She left her little substance to a charity- 
school. She is, I hope, where there is neither darkness, nor 
want, nor sorrow." 

Notwithstanding the complication of disorders under which 
Johnson now labored, he did not resign himself to despondency 
and discontent, but with wisdom and spirit endeavored to 
console and amuse his mind with as many innocent enjoy- 
ments as he could procure. Sir John Hawkins has men- 
tioned the cordiality with which he insisted that such of the 
members of the old club in Ivy-lane as survived, should meet 
again and dine together, which they did, twice at a tavern, 
and once at his house : and in order to insure himself society 
in the evening for three days in the week, he instituted a club 
at the Essex Head, in Essex-street, then kept by Samuel 
Greaves, an old servant of Mr. Thrale's. 

In the end of this year he was seized with a spasmodic 
asthma of such violence,-that he was confined to the house in 
great pain, being sometimes obliged to sit all night in his 
chair, a recumbent posture being so hurtful to his respiration, 
that he could not endure lying in bed; and there came upon 
him at the same time that oppressive and fatal disease, a 
dropsy. It was a very severe winter, which probably aggra- 
vated his complaints; and the solitude in which Mr. Levett 
and Mrs. Williams had left him rendered his life very gloomy. 
Mrs. Desmoulins, who still lived, was herself so very ill, that 
she could contribute very little to his relief. He, however, 
had none of that unsocial shyness which we commonly see in 
people afflicted with sickness. He did not hide his head 
from the world, in solitary abstraction ; he did not deny him- 
self to the visits of his friends and acquaintances ; but at all 
times, when he was not overcome by sleep, was ready for 
conversation as in his best days. 



CHAPTER XV (1784) 
The Last Year of Johnson's Life 

A Letter to Boswell — To His God-child — Boswell in London — ■ 
On His Friend Langton and the Next World — On Christian Charity 

— Johnson's Kind-Heartedness — A Trip to Oxford — The American 
Tourists — Johnson Truly Social — His Opinion of the Roast Mutton 

— The Value of Johnson's Roughness — Some of Johnson's Repartees 

— His Readiness to Make Apologies — The Endeavor to Secure 
Means for Sending Johnson to Italy — Boswell Makes Application 
Unknown to Johnson — Boswell's Last Meeting with Johnson — 
Second Marriage of Mrs. Thrale and Johnson's Mortification — 
Application for Johnson not Successful — Johnson in the Rain at 
Uttoxeter-Market — Imitators and Parodists of Johnson's Style — 
Johnson's Last Days — His Provision for His Servant Francis Barber 

— Incidents of His Final Illness — Johnson's Death — His Burial 
in Westminster Abbey. A 

And now I am arrived at the last year of the life of Samuel 
Johnson, a year in which, although passed in severe indispo- 
sition, he nevertheless gave many evidences of the continuance 
of those wondrous powers of mind, which raised him so high 
in the intellectual world. His conversation and his letters 
of this year were in no respect inferior to those of former years. 

" To James Boswell, Esq, 
11 Dear Sir, 

"I hear of many inquiries which your kindness has disposed 
you to make after me. I have long intended you a long letter 
which perhaps the imagination of its length hindered me from 
beginning. I will, therefore, content myself with a shorter. 

" Having promoted the institution of a new club in the 
neighborhood, at the house of an old servant of Thrale's, I 
went thither to meet the company, and was seized with a 
spasmodic asthma, so violent, that with difficulty I got to my 
own house, in which I have been confined eight or nine weeks, 
and from which I know not when I shall be able to go even to 
church. The asthma,, however, is not the worst. A dropsy 

208 



Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 209 

gains ground upon me, my legs and thighs are very much 
swollen with water, which I should be content if I could 
keep there; but I am afraid that it will soon be higher. My 
nights are very sleepless and very tedious. And yet I am 
extremely afraid of dying. 

"My physicians try to make me hope, that much of my 
malady is the effect of cold, and that some degree at least of 
recovery is to be expected from vernal breezes and summer 
suns. If my life is prolonged to autumn, I should be glad 
to try a warmer climate; though how to travel with a diseased 
body, without a companion to conduct me, and with very 
little money, I do not well see. Ramsay has recovered his 
limbs in Italy; and Fielding was sent to Lisbon, where, in- 
deed, he died ; but he was. I believe, past hope when he went. 
Think for me what I can do. 

"I received your pamphlet, and when I write again may 
perhaps tell you some opinion about it; but you will forgive 
a man struggling with disease his neglect of disputes, politics, 
and pamphlets. Let me have your prayers. My compli- 
ments to your lady and young ones. Ask your physicians 
about my case: and desire Sir Alexander Dick to write me 
his opinion. 

"I am, dear Sir, &c. 
"Feb. 11, 1784." "Sam. Johnson." 

What follows is a beautiful specimen of his gentleness and 
complacency to a young lady, his god-child, one of the daugh- 
ters of his friend Mr. Langton, then I think in her seventh 
year. He took the trouble to write it in a large round hand, 
nearly resembling printed characters, that she might have 
the satisfaction of reading it herself. The original lies before 
me, but shall be faithfully restored to her; and I dare say 
will be preserved by her as a jewel, as long as she lives. 

" To Miss Jane Langton, in Rochester, Kent. 
"My Dearest Miss Jenny, 

"I am sorry that your pretty letter has been so long with- 
out being answered; but, when I am not pretty well, I do not 



210 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 

always write plain enough for young ladies. I am glad, my 
dear, to see that you write so well, and hope that you mind 
your pen, your book, and your needle, for they are all neces- 
sary. Your books will give you knowledge, and make you 
respected; and your needle will find you useful employment 
when you do not care to read. When you are a little older, 
I hope you will be very diligent in learning arithmetic; and, 
above all, that through your whole life you will carefully 
say your prayers, and read your Bible. 
"I am, my dear, 

"Your most humble servant, 
"May 10, 1784." "Sam. Johnson." 

On Wednesday, May 5, I arrived in London, and next 
morning had the pleasure to find Dr. Johnson greatly re- 
covered. I but just saw him; for a coach was waiting to 
carry him to Islington, to the house of his friend the Reverend 
Mr. Strahan, where he went sometimes for the benefit of 
good air, which, notwithstanding his having formerly laughed 
at the general opinion upon the subject, he now acknowledged 
was conducive to health. 

On Saturday, May 15, 1 dined with him at Dr. Brocklesby's, 
where were Colonel Valiancy, Mr. Murphy, and that ever- 
cheerful companion Mr. Devaynes, apothecary to his Ma- 
jesty. Of these days, and others on which I saw him, I 
have no memorials, except the general recollection of his 
being able and animated in conversation, and appearing to 
relish society as much as the youngest man. When a person 
was mentioned, who said "I have lived fifty-one years in 
this world, without having had ten minutes of uneasiness;" 
he exclaimed, "The man who says so, lies; he attempts to 
impose on human credulity." One of the company provoked 
him greatly by doing what he could least of all bear, which 
was quoting something of his own writing, against what he 
then maintained. "What, Sir, (cried the gentleman,) do 
you say to 

' The busy day, the peaceful night, 
Unfelt, uncounted, glided by? ' " 



Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 211 

Johnson finding himself thus presented as giving an instance 
of a man who had lived without uneasiness, was much of- 
fended, for he looked upon such a quotation as unfair, his 
anger burst out in an unjustifiable retort, insinuating that 
the gentleman's remark was a sally of ebriet}^; "Sir, there is 
one passion I would advise you to command : when you have 
drunk out that glass, don't drink another." Here was exem- 
plified what Goldsmith said of him, with the aid of a very 
witty image from one of Cibber's Comedies: " There is no 
arguing with Johnson : for if his pistol misses fire, he knocks 
you down with the butt end of it." 

On Wednesday, May 19, I sat a part of the evening, with 
him, by ourselves. I observed, that the death of our friends 
might be a consolation against the fear of our own dissolution, 
because we might have more friends in the other world than 
in this. He perhaps felt this a reflection upon his apprehen- 
sion as to death; and said with heat, a How can a man know 
where his departed friends are, or whether they will be his 
friends in the other world? How many friendships have you 
known formed upon principles of virtue? Most friendships are 
formed by caprice or by chance, mere confederacies in vice 
or leagues in folly." 

We talked of our worthy friend Mr. Langton. He said, "I 
know not who will go to Heaven if Langton does not. Sir, I 
could almost say, Sit anirna mea cum Langtono." 1 I men- 
tioned a very eminent friend as a virtuous man. Johnson. 
"Yes, Sir; but — has not the evangelical virtue of Langton." 

He however charged Mr. Langton with what he thought 
want of judgment upon an interesting occasion. "When I 
was ill, (said he) I desired he would tell me sincerely in what 
he thought my life was faulty. Sir, he brought me a sheet 
of paper, on which he had written down several texts of 
Scripture, recommending Christian charity. And when I 
questioned him what occasion I had given for such an animad- 
version, all that he could say amounted to this, — that 1 
sometimes contradicted people in conversation. Now what 
harm does it do to any man to be contradicted?" Boswell. 
1 May my soul be with Langton. 



212 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 

"I suppose he meant the maimer of doing it; roughly, — 
and harshly." Johnson. "And who is the worse for that?" 
Boswell. "It hurts people of weaker nerves." Johnson. 
"I know no such weak-nerved people." Mr. Burke, to 
whom I related this conference, said, "It is well, if when a 
man comes to die, he has nothing heavier upon his conscience 
than having been a little rough in conversation." 

Johnson, at the time when the paper was presented to him, 
though at first pleased with the attention of his friend, whom 
he thanked in an earnest manner, soon exclaimed in a loud and 
angry tone, "What is your drift, Sir?" Sir Joshua Rey- 
nolds pleasantly observed, that it was a scene for a comedy, 
to see a penitent get into a violent passion and belabor his 
confessor. '- 

He had now a great desire to go to Oxford, as his first 
jaunt after his illness; we talked of it for some days, and I had 
promised to accompany him. He was impatient and fretful 
to-night, because I did not at once agree to go with him on 
Thursday. When I considered how ill he had been, and what 
allowance should be made for the influence of sickness upon 
his temper, I resolved to indulge him, though with some in- 
convenience to myself, as I wished to attend the musical 
meeting in honor of Handel, in Westminster Abbey, on the 
following Saturday. 

In the midst of his own diseases and pains, he was ever 
compassionate to the distress of others, and actively earnest 
in procuring them aid, as appears from a note to Sir Joshua 
Reynolds, of June, in these words: "I am ashamed to ask 
for some relief for a poor man, to whom, I hope, I have given 
what I can be expected to spare. The man importunes me, 
and the blow goes round. I am going to try another air on 
Thursday." 

On Thursday, June 3, the Oxford Post-coach took us up 
in the morning at Bolt-court. The other two passengers 
were Mrs. Beresford and her daughter, two very agreeable 
ladies from America; they were going to Worcestershire, 
where they then resided. Frank had been sent by his master 
the day before to take places for us; and I found from the 



Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 213 

way-bill that Dr. Johnson had made our names be put down. 
Mrs. Beresford, who had read it, whispered me, "Is this the 
great Dr. Johnson?" I told her it was; so she was then 
prepared to listen. As she soon happened to mention in a 
voice so low that Johnson did not hear it, that her husband 
had been a member of the American Congress, I cautioned 
her to beware of introducing that subject, as she must know 
how very violent Johnson was against the people of that 
country. He talked a great deal. But I am sorry I have 
preserved little of the conversation. Miss Beresford was 
so much charmed, that she said to me aside, "How he does 
talk! Every sentence is an essay." She amused herself 
in the coach with knotting; he would scarcely allow this 
species of employment any merit. "Next to mere idleness 
(said he) I think knotting is to be reckoned in the scale of 
insignificance; though I once attempted to learn knotting. 
Dempster's sister (looking to me) endeavored to teach me it; 
but I made no progress." 

I was surprised at his talking without reserve in the public 
post-coach of the state of his affairs; "I have (said he) about 
the world I think above sl thousand pounds, which I intend 
shall afford Frank an annuity of seventy pounds a year." 
Indeed his openness with people at a first interview was 
remarkable. He said once to Mr. Langton, "I think I am 
like Squire Richard in The Journey to London, 'I'm never 
strange in a strange place.'" He was truly social. He 
strongly censured what is much too common in England 
among persons of condition, — maintaining an absolute 
silence, when unknown to each other; as, for instance, when 
occasionally brought together in a room before the master 
or mistress of the house has appeared. "Sir, that is being 
so uncivilized as not to understand the common rights of 
humanity." 

At the inn where we stopped he was exceedingly dissatisfied 
with some roast mutton which he had for dinner. The ladies, 
I saw, wondered to see the great philosopher, whose wisdom 
and wit they had been admiring all the way, get into ill 
humor from such a cause. He scolded the waiter, saying, 



214 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 

"It is as bad as bad can be: it is ill-fed, ill-killed, ill-kept, 
and ill-dressed/' 

He bore the journey very well, and seemed to feel himself 
elevated as he approached Oxford, that magnificent and vener- 
able seat of Learning, Orthodoxy, and Toryism. Frank 
came in the heavy coach, in readiness to attend him; and 
we were received with the most polite hospitality at the house 
of his old friend Dr. Adams, Master of Pembroke College, 
who had given us a kind invitation. Before we were set 
down, I communicated to Johnson, my having engaged to 
return to London directly, for the reason I have mentioned, 
but that I would hasten back to him again. He was pleased 
that I had made this journey merely to keep him company. 
He was easy and placid, with Dr. Adams, Mrs. and Miss 
Adams, and Mrs. Kennicot, widow of the learned Hebraean, 
who was here on a visit. He soon dispatched inquiries the 
which were made about his illness and recovery, by a short 
and distinct narrative ; and then assuming a gay air, repeated 
from Swift, 

"Nor think on our approaching ills, 
And talk of spectacles and pills." 

I fulfilled my intention by going to London, and returned to 
Oxford on Wednesday, the 9th of June, when I was happy to 
find myself again in the same agreeable circle at Pembroke 
College, with the comfortable prospect of making some stay. 
Johnson welcomed my return with more than ordinary 
glee. 

Dr. Johnson and I went in Dr. Adams's coach to dine with 
Mr. Nowell, Principal of St. Mary Hall, at his beautiful 
villa at Iffley, on the banks of the Isis, about two miles from 
Oxford. While we were upon the road I had the resolution 
to ask Johnson whether he thought that the roughness of 
his manner had been an advantage or not, and if he would 
not have done more good if he had been more gentle. I pro- 
ceeded to answer myself thus: "Perhaps it has been of ad- 
vantage, as it has given weight to what you said: you could 
not, perhaps, have talked with such authority without it." 
Johnson. "No, Sir, I have done more good as I am. Ob- 



Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 215 

scenity and Impiety have always been repressed in my com- 
pany." Boswell. "True, Sir; and that is more than can 
be said of every Bishop. Greater liberties have been taken 
in the presence of a Bishop, though a very good man, from 
his being milder, and therefore not commanding such awe. 
Yet, Sir, many people who might have been benefited by 
your conversation have been frightened away. A worthy 
friend of ours has told me, that he has often been afraid to 
talk to you." Johnson. "Sir, he need not have been afraid, 
if he had anything rational to say. If he had not, it was 
better he did not talk." 

On Wednesday, June 19, Dr. Johnson and I returned to 
London; he was not well to-day, and said very little, employ- 
ing himself chiefly in reading Euripides. He expressed some 
displeasure at me, for not observing sufficiently the various 
objects upon the road. "If I had your eyes, Sir, (said he,) 
I should count the passengers." It was wonderful how accu- 
rate his observations of visual objects were, notwithstanding 
his imperfect eyesight, owing to a habit of attention. — That 
he was much satisfied with the respect paid to him at Dr. 
Adams's is thus attested by himself: "I returned last night 
from Oxford, after a fortnight's abode with Dr. Adams, who 
treated me as well as I could expect or wish; and he that 
contents a sick man, a man whom it is impossible to please, 
has surely done his part well." 

After his return to London from this excursion, I saw him 
frequently, but have few memorandums; I shall therefore 
here insert some particulars which I collected at various 
times. 

Johnson was present when a tragedy was read, in which 
there occurred this line 

"Who rules o'er freemen should himself be free." 

The company having admired it much, "I cannot agree with 
you (said Johnson:) It might as well be said, 

"Who drives fat oxen should himself be fat." 

Johnson having argued for some time with a pertinacious 
gentleman; his opponent, who had talked in a very puzzling 



216 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 

manner, happened to say, "I don't understand you, Sir;" 
upon which Johnson observed, "Sir, I have found you an 
argument; but I am not obliged to find you an understanding." 

He seemed to take a pleasure in speaking in his own style; 
for when he had carelessly missed it, he would repeat the 
thought translated into it. Talking of the comedy of The 
Rehearsal, he said, "It has not wit enough to keep it sweet." 
This was easy; — he therefore caught himself, and pro- 
nounced a more round sentence; "It has not vitality enough 
to preserve it from putrefaction." 

No man was more ready to make an apology when he had 
censured unjustly than Johnson. When a proof-sheet of 
one of his works was brought to him, he found fault with 
the mode in which a part of it was arranged, refused to read 
it, and in a passion desired that the compositor might be 
sent to him. The compositor was Mr. Manning, a decent 
sensible man, who had composed about one half of his Dic- 
tionary, when in Mr. Strahan's printing-house; and a great 
part of his Lives of the Poets, when in that of Mr: Nichols; 
and who (in his seventy-seventh year) when in Mr. Baldwin's 
printing-house, composed a part of the first edition of this 
work concerning him. By producing the manuscript, he at 
once satisfied Dr. Johnson that he was not to blame. Upon 
which Johnson candidly and earnestly said to him, "Mr. 
Compositor, I ask your pardon; Mr. Compositor, I ask your 
pardon, again and again." 

He once in his life was known to have uttered what is called 
a bull: Sir Joshua Reynolds, when they were riding together 
in Devonshire, complained that he had a very bad horse, 
for that even when going down hill he moved slowly step by 
step. "Ay (said Johnson,) and when he goes up hill, he 
stands still" 

He had a great aversion to gesticulating in company. He 
called once to a gentleman who offended him in that point, 
"Don't attitudinise." And when another gentleman thought 
he was giving additional force to what he uttered, by expres- 
sive movements of his hands, Johnson fairly seized them, 
and held them down. 



Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 217 

On Tuesday, June 22, I dined with him at The Literary 
Club, the last time of his being in that respectable society. 
The other members present were the Bishop of St. Asaph, 
Lord Eliot, Lord Palmerston, Dr. Fordyce, and Mr. Malone. 
He looked ill; but had such a manly fortitude, that he did 
not trouble the company with melancholy complaints. They 
all showed evident marks of kind concern about him, with 
which he was much pleased, and he exerted himself to be 
as entertaining as his indisposition allowed him. 

The anxiety of his friends to preserve so estimable a life, 
as long as human means might be supposed to have influence, 
made them plan for him a retreat from the severity of a 
British winter, to the mild climate of Italy. This scheme 
was at last brought to a serious resolution at General Paoli's, 
where I had often talked of it. One essential matter, how- 
ever, I understood was necessary to be previously settled, 
which was obtaining such an addition to his income, as would 
be sufficient to enable him to defray the expense in a manner 
becoming the first literary character of a great nation, and 
independent of all his other merits, the author of The Dic- 
tionary of the English Language. The person to whom I 
above all others thought I should apply to negotiate this 
business, was the Lord Chancellor, because I knew that he 
highly valued Johnson, and that Johnson highly valued his 
lordship; so that it was no degradation of my illustrious 
friend to solicit for him the favor of such a man. I have 
mentioned what Johnson said of him to me when he was at 
the bar; and after his lordship was advanced to the seals, he 
said of him, "I would prepare myself for no man in England 
but Lord Thurlow. When I am to meet with him, I should 
wish to know a day before." How he would have prepared 
himself, I cannot conjecture. Would he have selected cer- 
tain topics, and considered them in every view, so as to be in 
readiness to argue them at all points? and what may we 
suppose those topics to have been? I once started the curious 
inquiry to the great man who was the subject of this compli- 
ment: he smiled, but did not pursue it. 

I first consulted with Sir Joshua Reynolds, who perfectly 



218 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 

coincided in opinion with me; and I therefore, though per- 
sonally very little known to his Lordship, wrote to him, 
stating the case, and requesting his good offices for Dr. 
Johnson. I mentioned that I was obliged to set out for 
Scotland early in the following week, so that if his Lordship 
should have any commands for me as to this pious negotia- 
tion, he would be pleased to send them before that time; 
otherwise Sir Joshua Reynolds would give all attention 
to it. 

This application was made not only without any suggestion 
on the part of Johnson himself, but was utterly unknown to 
him, nor had he the smallest suspicion of it. Any insinua- 
tions, therefore, which since his death have been thrown out, 
as if he had stooped to ask what was superfluous, are without 
any foundation. But, had he asked it, it would not have 
been superfluous ; for though the money he had saved proved 
to be more than his friends imagined, or I believe than he 
himself, in his carelessness concerning worldly matters, knew 
it to be, had he traveled upon the Continent, an augmenta- 
tion of his income would by no means have been unnecessary. 

He now said, "He wished much to go to Italy, and that 
he dreaded passing the winter in England/' I said nothing; 
but enjoyed a secret satisfaction in thinking that I had taken 
the most effectual measures to make such a scheme practi- 
cable. 

On Monday, June 28, I had the honor to receive from the 
Lord Chancellor the following letter: 

" To James Boswell, Esq. 

"Sir, 

"I should have answered your letter immediately; if, 
(being much engaged when I received it) I had not put it in 
my pocket, and forgot to open it till this morning. 

"I am much obliged to you for the suggestion; and I will 
adopt and press it as far as I can. The best argument, I am 
sure, and I hope it is not likely to fail, is Dr. Johnson's merit. 
— But it will be necessary, if I should be so unfortunate as to 
miss seeing you, to converse with Sir Joshua on the sum it 



Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 219 

will be proper to ask, — in short, upon the means of setting 
him out. It would be a reflection on us all, if such a man 
should perish for want of the means to take care of his 
health. 

"Yours, &c. 
"Thurlow." 

This letter gave me a very high satisfaction; I next day 
went and showed it to Sir Joshua Reynolds, who was ex- 
ceedingly pleased with it. He thought that I should now 
communicate the negotiation to Dr. Johnson, who might 
afterwards complain if the attention with which he had been 
honored should be too long concealed from him. I intended 
to set out for Scotland next morning; but Sir Joshua Rey- 
nolds cordially insisted that I should stay another day, that 
Johnson and I might dine with him, that we three might talk 
of his Italian Tour, and, as Sir Joshua expressed himself, 
"have it all out." I hastened to Johnson, and was told by 
him that he was rather better today. Boswell. "I am 
very anxious about you, Sir, and particularly that you should 
go to Italy for the winter, which I believe is your own wish." 
Johnson. "It is, Sir." Boswell. "You have no objections, 
I presume, but the money it would require." Johnson. 
"Why, no, Sir. "■ — Upon which I gave him a particu- 
lar account of what had been done, and read to him the 
Lord Chancellor's letter. — He listened with much attention; 
then warmly said, "This is taking prodigious pains about 
a man." — "0, Sir, (said I, with most sincere affection,) 
your friends would do everything for you." He paused, — 
grew more and more agitated, till tears started into his eyes, 
and he exclaimed with fervent emotion, "God bless you all." 
I was so affected that I also shed tears. — After a short 
silence, he renewed and extended his grateful benediction. 
"God bless you all, for Jesus Christ's sake." We both re- 
mained for some time unable to speak. — He rose suddenly 
and quitted the room, quite melted in tenderness. He stayed 
but a short time, till he had recovered his firmness ; soon after 
he returned I left him, having first engaged him to dine at Sir 



220 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 

Joshua Reynolds's next day. — I never was again under that 
roof which I had so long reverenced. 

On Wednesday, June 30, the friendly confidential dinner 
with Sir Joshua Reynolds took place, no other company being 
present. Had I known that this was the last time that I 
should enjoy in this world the conversation of a friend whom 
I so much respected, and from whom I derived so much 
instruction and entertainment, I should have been deeply 
affected. When I now look back to it, I am vexed that a 
single word should have been forgotten. 

Both Sir Joshua and I were so sanguine in our expectations, 
that we expatiated with confidence on the liberal provision 
which we were sure would be made for him, conjecturing 
whether munificence would be displayed in one large dona- 
tion, or in an ample increase of his pension. He himself 
catched so much of our enthusiasm, as to allow himself to 
suppose it not impossible that our hopes might in one way or 
other be realized. He said that he would rather have his 
pension doubled than a grant of a thousand pounds; "For, 
(said he,) though probably I may not live to receive as much 
as a thousand pounds, a man would have the consciousness 
that he should pass the remainder of his life in splendor, 
how long soever it might be." Considering what a moderate 
proportion an income of six hundred pounds a year bears to 
innumerable fortunes in this country, it is worthy of remark, 
that a man so truly great should think it splendor. 

I accompanied him in Sir Joshua Reynolds's coach, to the 
entry of Bolt-court. He asked me whether I would not go 
with him to his house; I declined it, from an apprehension 
that my spirits would sink. We bade adieu to each other 
affectionately in the carriage. When he had got down upon 
the foot-pavement, he called out, "Fare you well;" and 
without looking back, sprung away with a kind of pathetic 
briskness, if I may use that expression, which seemed to 
indicate a struggle to conceal uneasiness, and impressed me 
with a foreboding of our long, long separation. 

I remained one day more in town, to have the chance of 
talking over my negotiation with the Lord Chancellor: but 



Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 221 

the multiplicity of his Lordship's important engagements 
did not allow of it; so I left the management of the business 
in the hands of Sir Joshua Reynolds. 

Soon after this time Dr. Johnson had the mortification of 
being informed by Mrs. Thrale that, "what she supposed he 
never believed," was true; namely, that she was actually 
going to marry Signor Piozzi, an Italian music master. He 
endeavored to prevent it; but in vain. If she would publish 
the whole of the correspondence that passed between Dr. 
Johnson and her on the subject, we should have a full view 
of his real sentiments. As it is, our judgment must be 
biased by that characteristic specimen which Sir John Hawkins 
has given us: "Poor Thrale, I thought that either her virtue 
or her vice would have restrained her from such a marriage. 
She has now become a subject for her enemies to exult over; 
and for her friends, if she has any left, to forget or pity." 

By a letter from Sir Joshua Reynolds, I was informed, that 
the Lord Chancellor had called on him, and acquainted him 
that the application had not been successful; but that his 
Lordship, after speaking highly in praise of Johnson, as a 
man who was an honor to his country, desired Sir Joshua to 
let him know, that on granting a mortgage of his pension, 
he should draw on his Lordship to the amount of five or six 
hundred pounds; and that his Lordship explained the mean- 
ing of the mortgage to be, that he wished the business to be 
conducted in such a manner, that Dr. Johnson should appear 
to be under the least possible obligation. Sir Joshua men- 
tioned, that he had by the same post communicated all this 
to Dr. Johnson. 

How Johnson was affected upon the occasion will appear 
from what he wrote to Sir Joshua Reynolds: 

Ashbourne, Sept. 9. "Many words I hope are not neces- 
sary between you and me, to convince you what gratitude 
is excited in my heart by the Chancellor's liberality, and 
your kind offices." 

To Mr. Henry White, a young clergyman, with whom he 
now formed an intimacy, so as to talk to him with great 
freedom, he mentioned that he could not in general accuse 



222 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 

himself of having been an undutiful son. "Once, indeed, 
(said he) I was disobedient ; I refused to attend my father to 
Uttoxeter-market. Pride was the source of that refusal, and 
the remembrance of it was painful. A few years ago I desired 
to atone for this fault. I went to Uttoxeter in very bad 
weather and stood for a considerable time bareheaded in 
the rain, on the spot where my father's stall used to stand. 
In contrition I stood, and I hope the penance was expiatory. " 

As Johnson had now very faint hopes of recovery, and as 
Mrs. Thrale was no longer devoted to him, it might have been 
supposed that he would naturally have chosen to remain in 
the comfortable house of his beloved wife's daughter, and 
end his life where he began it. But there was in him an 
animated and lofty spirit, and however complicated diseases 
might depress ordinary mortals, all who saw him beheld and 
acknowledged the invictum animum Catonis. 1 Such was his 
intellectual ardor even at this time, that he said to one 
friend, "Sir, I look upon every day to be lost, in which I do 
not make a new acquaintance;" and to another, when talking 
of his illness, "I will be conquered; I will not capitulate." 
And such was his love of London, so high a relish had he of 
its magnificent extent, and variety of intellectual enter- 
tainment, that he languished when absent from it, his mind 
having become quite luxurious from the long habit of enjoying 
the metropolis; and, therefore, although at Lichfield sur- 
rounded with friends who loved and revered him, and for 
whom he had a very sincere affection, he still found that such 
conversation as London affords could be found nowhere else. 
These feelings, joined, probably, to some flattering hopes of 
aid from the eminent physicians and surgeons in London, 
who kindly and generously attended him without accepting 
fees, made him resolve to return to the capital. 

He arrived in London the 16th of November, and next 
day sent to Dr. Burney the following note, which I insert 
as the last token of his remembrance of that ingenious and 
amiable man, and as another of the many proofs of the ten- 
derness and benignity of his heart: 

1 The unconquerable mind of Cato. 



Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 223 

"Mr. Johnson, who came home last night, sends his re- 
spects to dear Dr. Burney, and all the dear Burneys, little 
and great." 

Soon after Johnson's return to the metropolis, both the 
asthma and dropsy became more violent and distressful. 
He had for some time kept a journal in Latin of the state of 
his illness, and the remedies which he used, under the title of 
Mgri Ephemeris, which he began on the 6th of July; but 
continued it no longer than the 8th of November; finding, 
I suppose, that it was a mournful and unavailing register. 
It is in my possession; and is written with great care and 
accuracy. 

I shall now fulfill my promise of exhibiting specimens of 
various sorts of imitation of Johnson's style. 

The ludicrous imitators of Johnson's style are innumerable. 
Their general method is to accumulate hard words, without 
considering, that, although he was fond of introducing them 
occasionally, there is not a single sentence in all his writings 
where they are crowded together, as in the first verse of the 
following imaginary Ode by him to Mrs. Thrale, which ap- 
peared in the newspapers: 

"Cervisial coctor's viduate dame, 
Opins't thou this gigantic frame, 

Procumbing at thy shrine; 
Shall, catenated by thy charms, 
A captive in thy ambient arms, 

Perennially be thine?" 

This, and a thousand other such attempts, are totally 
unlike the original, which the writers imagined they were 
turning into ridicule. There is not similarity enough for 
burlesque, or even for caricature. 

Mr. Colman, in his Prose on Several Occasions, has "A 
Letter from Lexiphanes; containing Proposals for a Glossary 
or Vocabulary of the Vulgar Tongue: intended as a Supple- 
ment to a larger Dictionary." It is evidently meant as a 
sportive sally of ridicule on Johnson, whose style is thus 
imitated without being grossly overcharged. "It is easy 
to foresee, that the idle and illiterate will complain that I 



224 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 

have increased their labors by endeavoring to diminish them: 
and that I have explained what is more easy by what is more 
difficult — ignotum per ignotius. I expect, on the other hand, 
the liberal acknowledgments of the learned. He who is 
buried in scholastic retirement, secluded from the assemblies 
of the gay, and remote from the circles of the polite, will at 
once comprehend the definitions, and be grateful for such a 
seasonable and necessary elucidation of his mother-tongue." 
Annexed to this letter is a short specimen of the work, thrown 
together in a vague and desultory manner, not even adhering 
to alphabetical concatenation. 1 

The serious imitators of Johnson's style, whether inten- 
tionally or by the imperceptible effect of its strength and 
animation, are, as I have had already occasion to observe, 
so many, that I might introduce quotations from a numerous 
body of writers in our language, since he appeared in the 
literary world. I shall point out only the following: 

William Robertson, D.D. 
"In other parts of the globe, man, in his rudest state, 
appears as Lord of the creation, giving law to various tribes 
of animals which he has tamed and reduced to subjection. 
The Tartar follows his prey on the horse which he has reared, 
or tends his numerous herds which furnish him both with 
food and clothing; the Arab has rendered the camel docile, 
and avails himself of its persevering strength; the Lap- 
lander has formed the reindeer to be subservient to his will; 
and even the people of Kamschatka have trained their dogs 
to labor. This command over the inferior creatures is one 
of the noblest prerogatives of man, and among the greatest 
efforts of his wisdom and power. Without this, his dominion 
is incomplete. He is a monarch who has no subjects; a 
master without servants; and must perform every operation 
by the strength of his own arm." 

1 Hodge-podge, — A culinary mixture of heterogeneous ingredients; 
applied metaphorically to all discordant combinations. Tit for tat, — 
Adequate retaliation. Rigmarole, — Discourse, incoherent and rhap- 
sodical. 



Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 225 

Edward Gibbon, Esq. 
"Of all our passions and appetites, the love of power is 
of the most imperious and unsociable nature, since the pride 
of one man requires the submission of the multitude. In the 
tumult of civil discord the laws of Society lose their force, 
and their place is seldom supplied by those of humanity. 
The ardor of contention, the pride of victory, the despair of 
success, the memory of past injuries, and the fear of future 
dangers, all contribute to inflame the mind, and to silence 
the voice of pity." 

Miss Burney. 

"My family, mistaking ambition for honor, and rank for 
dignity, have long planned a splendid connection for me, to 
which, though my invariable repugnance has stopped any 
advances, their wishes and their views immovably adhere. 
I am but too certain they will now listen to no other. I 
dread, therefore, to make a trial where I despair of success; 
I know not how to risk a prayer with those who may silence 
me by a command." 

My readers are now, at last, to behold Samuel Johnson pre- 
paring himself for that doom, from which the most exalted 
powers afford no exemption to man. Death had always been 
to him an object of terror; so that though by no means happy, 
he still clung to life with an eagerness at which many have 
wondered. At any time when he was ill, he was very pleased 
to be told that he looked better. An ingenious member of 
the Eumelian Club informs me, that upon one occasion, 
when he said to him that he saw health returning to his 
cheek, Johnson seized him by the hand and exclaimed, "Sir, 
you are one of the kindest friends I ever had." 

It is not my intention to give a very minute detail of the 
particulars of Johnson's remaining days, of whom it was now 
evident, that the crisis was fast approaching, when he must 
"die like men, and fall like one of the Princes." Yet it will 
be instructive, as well as gratifying to the curiosity of my 
readers to record a few circumstances, on the authenticity 
of which they may perfectly rely, as I have been at the 



226 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 

utmost pains to obtain an accurate account of his last ill- 
ness, from the best authority. 

Having no other relations, it had been for some time 
Johnson's intention to make a liberal provision for his faith- 
ful servant, Mr. Francis Barber, whom he looked upon as 
particularly under his protection, and whom he had all 
along treated truly as an humble friend. Having asked 
Dr. Brocklesby what would be a proper annuity to a favorite 
servant, and being answered that it must depend on the 
circumstances of the master; and, that in the case of a noble- 
man, fifty pounds a year was considered as an adequate 
reward for many years' faithful service; — "Then, (said 
Johnson,) shall I be nobilissimus, 1 for I mean to leave Frank 
seventy pounds a year, and I desire you to tell him so." 
It is strange, however, to think, that Johnson was not free 
from that general weakness of being averse to execute a will, 
so that he delayed it from time to time; and had it not been 
for Sir John Hawkins's repeatedly urging it, I think it is 
probable that his kind resolution would not have been fulfilled. 

During his last illness, Johnson experienced the steady and 
kind attachment of his numerous friends. Mr. Hoole has 
drawn up a narrative of what passed in the visits which he 
paid him during that time, from the 10th of November to 
the 13th of December, the day of his death, inclusive, and 
has favored me with a perusal of it, with permission to make 
extracts, which I have done. Nobody was more attentive 
to him than Mr. Langton, to whom he tenderly said, Te 
teneam moriens deficiente manu. 2 And I think it highly 
to the honor of Mr. Windham, that his important occupations 
as an active statesman did not prevent him from paying 
assiduous respect to the dying Sage whom he revered. Mr. 
Langton informs me, that, "one day he found Mr. Burke and 
four or five more friends sitting with Johnson. Mr. Burke 
said to him, 'I am afraid, Sir, such a number of us may be 
oppressive to you.' — 'No, Sir, (said Johnson,) it is not so; 
and I must be in a wretched state, indeed, when your company 

1 Superlatively noble. 

2 Dying, may I hold you by my failing hand. 



Age 75] LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 227 

would not be a delight to me/ Mr. Burke, in a tremulous 
voice, expressive of being very tenderly affected, replied, i My 
dear Sir, you have always been too good to me/ Immediately 
afterwards he went away. This was the last circumstance in 
the acquaintance of these two eminent men." 

Amidst the melancholy clouds which hung over the dying 
Johnson, his characteristical manner showed itself on different 
occasions. 

When Dr. Warren, in the usual style, hoped that he was 
better, his answer was, "No, Sir; you cannot conceive with 
what acceleration I advance towards death." 

A man whom he had never seen before was employed one 
night to sit up with him. Being asked next morning how he 
liked his attendant, his answer was, "Not at all, Sir: the 
fellow's an idiot; he is as awkward as a turn-spit when first 
put into the wheel, and as sleepy as a dormouse." 

Mr. Windham having placed a pillow conveniently to sup- 
port him, he thanked him for his kindness, and said, "That 
will do, — all that a pillow can do." 

Of his last moments, my brother, Thomas David, has 
furnished me with the following particulars : 

"The Doctor, from the time that he was certain his death 
was near, appeared to be perfectly resigned, was seldom or 
never fretful or out of temper, and often said to his faithful 
servant, who gave me this account, ' Attend, Francis, to the 
salvation of your soul, which is the object of greatest impor- 
tance :' he also explained to him passages in the Scripture, 
and seemed to have pleasure in talking upon religious subjects. 

"On Monday, the 13th of December, the day on which 
he died, a Miss Morris, daughter to a particular friend of his, 
called, and said to Francis, that she begged to be permitted 
to see the Doctor, that she might earnestly request him to 
give her his blessing. Francis went into his room, followed 
by the young lady, and delivered the message. The Doctor 
turned himself in the bed, and said, 'God bless you, my dear!' 
These were the last words he spoke. — His difficulty of 
breathing increased till about seven o'clock in the evening, 
when Mr. Barber and Mrs. Desmoulins, who were sitting in 



228 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON [1784 

the room, observing that the noise he made in breathing had 
ceased, went to the bed, and found he was dead." 

A few days before his death, he had asked Sir John Hawkins, 
as one of his executors, where he should be buried; and on 
being answered, " Doubtless, in Westminster Abbey," seemed 
to feel a satisfaction, very natural to a Poet; and indeed in 
my opinion very natural to every man of any imagination, 
who has no family sepulchre in which he can be laid with 
his fathers. Accordingly, upon Monday, December 20, 
his remains were deposited in that noble and renowned 
edifice; and over his grave was placed a large blue flag-stone, 
with this inscription: 

" Samuel Johnson, LL.D. 

Obiit XIII die Decembris 

Anno Domini 

M.DCC.LXXXIV. 

Matis suae LXXV." 

His funeral was attended by a respectable number of his 
friends, particularly such of the members of The Literary 
Club as were then in town; and was also honored with the 
presence of several of the Reverend Chapter of Westminster. 
Mr. Burke, Sir Joseph Banks, Mr. Windham, Mr. Langton, 
Sir Charles Bunbury, and Mr. Colman, bore his pall. His 
school-fellow, Dr. Taylor, performed the mournful office of 
reading the burial service. 



CHAPTER XVI 
Conclusion 

Johnson as Guide, Philosopher, and Friend — His Figure and 
Countenance — Traits of His Character — His Moral Precepts and 
Maxims — His Union of a Logical Head with a Fertile Imagination 
— His Intellectual Strength and Dexterity. 

I trust, I shall not be accused of affectation, when I declare, 
that I find myself unable to express all that I felt upon the loss 
of such a " Guide, Philosopher, and Friend. " I shall, there- 
fore, not say one word of my own, but adopt those of an emi- 
nent friend, which he uttered with an abrupt felicity, superior 
to all studied compositions: — "He has made a chasm, which 
not only nothing can fill up, but which nothing has a tend- 
ency to fill up. — Johnson is dead. — Let us go to the next 
best: — there is nobody; no man can be said to put you 
in mind of Johnson." 

The character of Samuel Johnson has, I trust, been so 
developed in the course of this work, that they, who have 
honored it with a perusal, may be considered as well ac- 
quainted with him. As, however, it may be expected that 
I should collect into one view the capital and distinguishing 
features of this extraordinary man, I shall endeavor to acquit 
myself of that part of my biographical undertaking, however 
difficult it may be to do that which many of my readers 
will do better for themselves. 

His figure was large and well formed, and his countenance of 
the cast of an ancient statue; yet his appearance was ren- 
dered strange and somewhat uncouth, by convulsive cramps, 
by the scars of that distemper which it was once imagined 
the royal touch could cure, and by a slovenly mode of dress. 
He had the use only of one eye; yet so much does mind 

229 



230 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 

govern, and even supply the deficiency of organs, that his 
visual perceptions, as far as they extended, were uncom- 
monly quick and accurate. So morbid was his temperament, 
that he never knew the natural joy of a free and vigorous 
use of his limbs: when he walked, it was like the struggling 
gait of one in fetters; when he rode, he had no command or 
direction of his horse; but was carried as if in a balloon. 
That with his constitution and habits of life he should have 
lived seventy-five years is a proof that an inherent vivida 
vis 1 is a powerful preservative of the human frame. 

Man is, in general, made up of contradictory qualities; and 
these will ever show themselves in strange succession, where a 
consistency in appearance at least, if not reality, has not been 
attained by long habits of philosophical discipline. In pro- 
portion to the native vigor of the mind, the contradictory 
qualities will be the more prominent, and more difficult to 
be adjusted; and, therefore, we are not to wonder, that 
Johnson exhibited an eminent example of this remark which 
I have made upon human nature. At different times, he 
seemed a different man, in some respects; not, however, in 
any great or essential article, upon which he had fully em- 
ployed his mind, and settled certain principles of duty, but 
only in his manners, and in the display of argument and 
fancy in his talk. He was prone to superstition, but not to 
credulity. Though his imagination might incline him to a 
belief of the marvelous and the mysterious, his vigorous 
reason examined the evidence with jealousy. He was a 
sincere and zealous Christian, of high Church-of-England 
and monarchical principles, which he would not tamely 
suffer to be questioned; and had, perhaps, at an early period, 
narrowed his mind somewhat too much, both as to religion 
and politics. His being impressed with the danger of extreme 
latitude in either, though he was of a very independent spirit, 
occasioned his appearing somewhat unfavorable to the prev- 
alence of that noble freedom of sentiment which is the best 
possession of man. Nor can it be denied, that he had many 
prejudices; which, however, frequently suggested many of 
1 Vital impulse. 



LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 231 

his pointed sayings, that rather show a playfulness of fancy 
than any settled malignity. He was steady and inflexible in 
maintaining the obligations of religion and morality; both 
from a regard for the order of society, and from a veneration 
for the GREAT SOURCE of all order; correct, nay stern in 
his taste; hard to please, and easily offended; impetuous and 
irritable in his temper, but of a most humane and benevolent 
heart, which showed itself not only in a most liberal charity, 
as far as his circumstances would allow, but in a thousand 
instances of active benevolence. He was afflicted with a 
bodily disease, which made him often restless and fretful; 
and with a constitutional melancholy, the clouds of which 
darkened the brightness of his fancy, and gave a gloomy 
cast to his whole course of thinking: we, therefore, ought 
not to wonder at his sallies of impatience and passion at any 
time; especially when provoked by obtrusive ignorance, or 
presuming petulance; and allowance must be made for his 
uttering hasty and satirical sallies even against his best 
friends. And, surely, when it is considered, that, "amidst 
sickness and sorrow," he exerted his faculties in so many 
works for the benefit of mankind, and particularly that he 
achieved the great and admirable Dictionary of our language, 
we must be astonished at his resolution. The solemn text, 
"of him to whom much is given, much will be required," 
seems to have been ever present to his mind, in a rigorous 
sense, and to have made him dissatisfied with his labors 
and acts of goodness, however comparatively great; so that 
the unavoidable consciousness of his superiority was, in 
that respect, a cause of disquiet. He suffered so much from 
this, and from the gloom which perpetually haunted him, 
and made solitude frightful, that it may be said of him, "If 
in this life only he had hope, he was of all men most miser- 
able." He loved praise, when it was brought to him; but 
was too proud to seek for it. He was somewhat susceptible 
of flattery. As he was general and unconfined in his studies, 
he cannot be considered as master of any one particular 
science; but he had accumulated a vast and various collec- 
tion of learning and knowledge, which was so arranged in 



232 LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 

his mind, as to be ever in readiness to be brought forth. 
But his superiority over other learned men consisted chiefly 
in what may be called the art of thinking, the art of using 
his mind; a certain continual power of seizing the useful sub- 
stance of all that he knew, and exhibiting it in a clear and 
forcible manner; so that knowledge, which we often see to be 
no better than lumber in men of dull understanding, was, in 
him, true, evident, and actual wisdom. His moral precepts 
are practical; for they are drawn from an intimate acquain- 
tance with human nature. His maxims carry conviction; 
for they are founded on the basis of common sense, and a 
very attentive and minute survey of real life. His mind 
was so full of imagery, that he might have been perpetually 
a poet; yet it is remarkable, that, however rich his prose is 
in this respect, his poetical pieces, in general, have not much 
of that splendor, but are rather distinguished by strong 
sentiment and acute observation, conveyed in harmonious and 
energetic verse, particularly in heroic couplets. Though 
usually grave, and even awful in his deportment, he possessed 
uncommon and peculiar powers of wit and humor; he fre- 
quently indulged himself in colloquial pleasantry; and the 
heartiest merriment was often enjoyed in his company; 
with this great advantage, that, as it was entirely free from 
any poisonous tincture of vice or impiety, it was salutary 
to those who shared in it. He had accustomed himself to 
such accuracy in his common conversation, that he at all 
times expressed his thoughts with great force, and an elegant 
choice of language, the effect of which was aided by his 
having a loud voice and a slow, deliberate utterance. In 
him were united a most logical head with a most fertile 
imagination, which gave him an extraordinary advantage 
in arguing: for he could reason close or wide, as he saw best 
for the moment. Exulting in his intellectual strength and 
dexterity, he could, when he pleased, be the greatest sophist 
that ever contended in the lists of declamation; and, from 
a spirit of contradiction and a delight in showing his powers, 
he would often maintain the wrong side with equal warmth 
and ingenuity; so that, when there was an audience, his 



LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON 233 

real opinions could seldom be gathered from his talk ; though 
when he was in company with a single friend, he would 
discuss a subject with genuine fairness; but he was too 
conscientious to make error permanent and pernicious, by 
deliberately writing it ; and, in all his numerous works, he 
earnestly inculcated what appeared to him to be the truth; 
his piety being constant and the ruling principle of ail his 
conduct. 

Such was Samuel Johnson, a man whose talents, acquire- 
ments, and virtues were so extraordinary, that the more his 
character is considered, the more he will be regarded by the 
present age, and by posterity, with admiration and reverence. 




Diagram op Poets' Corner, 
Westminster Abbey 



APPENDIX 

I. Brief Excerpts from Dr. Johnson's Works 

I had rather see the portrait of a dog that I know than all 
the allegorical paintings they can show me in the world. 

It is, I believe, a very just observation, that men's am- 
bition is generally proportioned to their capacity. Provi- 
dence seldom sends any into the world with an inclination 
to attempt great things, who have not abilities likewise to 
perform them. 

There is a kind of anxious cleanliness which I have always 
noted as the characteristic of a slattern; it is the super- 
fluous scrupulosity of guilt, dreading discovery, and shunning 
suspicion: it is the violence of an effort against habit, which, 
being impelled by external motives, cannot stop at the middle 
point. 

The chief glory of every people arises from its authors: 
whether I shall add anything by my own writings to the 
reputation of English literature must be left to time: much 
of my life has been lost under the pressures of disease; much 
has been trifled away; and much has always been spent in 
provision for the day that was passing over me; but I shall 
not think my employment useless or ignoble, if by my assist- 
ance foreign nations and distant ages gain access to the 
propagators of knowledge, and understand the teachers of 
truth; if my labors afford light to the repositories of science, 
and add celebrity to Bacon, to Hooker, to Milton, and to 
Boyle. 

When I am animated by this wish, I look with pleasure on 
my book, however defective, and deliver it to the world with 
the spirit of a man that has endeavored well. 

It is one of the common distresses of a writer to be within 
a word of a happy period, to want only a single epithet to 
give amplification its full force, to require only a correspond- 
ent term in order to finish a paragraph with elegance and make 
one of its members answer to the other : but these deficiencies 

235 



236 EXTRACTS FROM JOHNSON'S WORKS 

cannot always be supplied; and after a long study and vex- 
ation, the passage is turned anew, and the web unwoven 
that was so nearly finished. 

It is commonly supposed that the uniformity of a studious 
life affords no matter for a narration: but the truth is, that 
of the most studious life a great part passes without study. 
An author partakes of the common condition of humanity; 
he is born and married like another man; he has hopes and 
fears, expectations and disappointments, griefs and joys, 
and friends and enemies, like a courtier or a statesman; nor 
can I conceive why his affairs should not excite curiosity as 
much as the whisper of a drawing-room, or the factions of a 
camp. 

Men of the pen have seldom any great skill in conquering 
kingdoms, but they have strong inclination to give advice. 

We are blinded in examining our own labors by innumer- 
able prejudices. Our juvenile compositions please us be- 
cause they bring to our minds the remembrance of youth; 
our later performances we are ready to esteem because we 
are unwilling to think that we have made no improvement; 
what flows easily from the pen charms us because we read 
with pleasure that which flatters our opinion of our own 
powers; what was composed with great struggles of the mind 
we do not easily reject because we cannot bear that so much 
labor should be fruitless. 

It should be diligently inculcated to the scholar, that unless 
he fixes in his mind some idea of the time in which each man 
of eminence lived, and each action was performed, with some 
part of the contemporary history of the rest of the world, he 
will consume his life in useless reading and darken his mind 
with a crowd of unconnected events; his memory will be 
perplexed with distant transactions resembling one another, 
and his reflections be like a dream in a fever, busy and tur- 
bulent, but confused and indistinct. 

Composition is for the most part an effort of slow diligence 
and steady perseverance, to which the mind is dragged by 
necessity or resolution, and from which the attention is every 
moment starting to more delightful amusements. 



237 

Curiosity is, in great and generous minds, the first passion 
and the last; and perhaps always predominates in proportion 
to the strength of the contemplative faculties. 

We do not indeed so often disappoint others as ourselves. 
We not only think more highly than others of our own 
abilities, but allow ourselves to form hopes which we never 
communicate, and please our thoughts with employments 
which none ever will allot us, and with elevations to which 
we are never expected to rise; and when our days and years 
have passed away in common business or common amuse- 
ments, and we find at last that we have suffered our purposes 
to sleep till the time of action is past, we are reproached only 
by our own reflections; neither our friends nor our enemies 
wonder that we live and die like the rest of mankind; that 
we live without notice and die without memorial; they know 
not what task we had proposed, and therefore cannot discern 
"whether it is finished. 

Every man, however hopeless his pretensions may appear 
to all but himself, has some project by which he hopes to 
rise to reputation; some art by which he imagines that the 
notice of the world will be attracted; some quality good or 
bad which discriminates him from the common herd of 
mortals, and by which others may be persuaded to love or 
compelled to fear him. 

He only confers favors generously who appears, when they 
are once conferred, to remember them no more. 

Gratitude is a species of justice. 

The natural flights of the human mind are not from pleasure 
to pleasure but from hope to hope. 

To be idle and to be poor have always been reproaches, 
and therefore every man endeavors with his utmost care 
to hide his poverty from others, and his idleness from him- 
self. 

No man ever yet became great by imitation. 

Men are generally idle and ready to satisfy themselves 
and intimidate the industry of others by calling that im- 
possible which is only difficult. 

The true art of memory is the art of attention. 



238 EXTRACTS FROM JOHNSON'S WORKS 

It may be laid down as a position which will seldom de- 
ceive, that when a man cannot bear his own company, there 
is something wrong. 

Such is the delight of mental superiority, that none on 
whom nature or study has conferred it would purchase the 
gifts of fortune by its loss. 

Money and time are the heaviest burdens of life, and the 
unhappiest of all mortals are those who have more of either 
than they know how to use. 

The greatest part of mankind have no other reason for 
their .opinions than that they are in fashion. 

The public pleasures of far the greater part of mankind 
are counterfeit. 

Poverty, like many other miseries of life, is often little 
more than an imaginary calamity. Men often call them- 
selves poor, not because they want necessaries, but because 
they have not more than they want. 

Just praise is only a debt, but flattery is a present. 

It is always observable that silence propagates itself, and 
that the longer talk has been suspended, the more difficult 
it is to find anything to say. 

Familiar comedy is often more powerful on the theatre 
than in the page; imperial tragedy is always less. 

Most men think indistinctly and therefore cannot speak 
with exactness. 

The task of every other slave has an end. The rower in 
time reaches the port; the lexicographer at last finds the 
conclusion of his alphabet; only the hapless wit has his 
labor always to begin, the call for novelty is never satisfied, 
and one jest only raises expectation of another. 

Young men in haste to be renowned too frequently talk of 
books which they have scarcely seen.' 

By numbers here from shame or censure free 
All crimes are safe, but hated poverty. 
This, only this, the rigid law pursues; 
This, only this, provokes the snarling muse. 
The sober trader at a tatter 'd cloak 
Wakes from his dream, and labors for a joke 
With brisker air the silken courtiers gaze, 
And turn the varied taunt a thousand ways. 



EXTRACTS FROM JOHNSON'S WORKS 239 



Of all the griefs that harass the distress'd, 
Sure the most bitter is a scornful jest; 
Fate never wounds more deep the gen'rous heart, 
Than when a blockhead's insult points the dart. 

Has heaven reserved, in pity to the poor, 
No pathless waste, or undiscover'd shore? 
No secret island in the boundless main? 
No peaceful desert yet unclaim'd by Spain? 
Quick let us rise, the happy seats explore, 
And bear oppression's insolence no more. 
This mournful truth is ev'rywhere confess'd, 
Slow rises worth, by poverty depress'd; 
But here more slow, where all are slaves to gold, 
Where looks are merchandise, and smiles are sold 
Where won by bribes, by flatteries implor'd, 
The groom retails the favors of his lord. 

But hark! th' affrighted crowd's tumultuous cries 
Roll through the streets, and thunder to the skies. 
Rais'd from some pleasing dream of wealth and pow'r 
Some pompous palace, or some blissful bow'r, 
Aghast you start, and scarce with aching sight 
Sustain the approaching fire's tremendous light; 
Swift from pursuing horrors take your way, 
And leave your little All to flames a prey; 
Then thro' the world a wretched vagrant roam, 
For where can starving merit find a home? 
In vain your mournful narrative disclose, 
While all neglect, and most insult your woes. 

(From London.) 

On what foundation stands the warrior's pride, 
How just his hopes, let Swedish Charles decide: 
A frame of adamant, a soul of fire, 
No dangers frignc him, and no labors tire; 
O'er love, o'er fear, extends his wide domain, 
Unconquer'd lord of pleasure and of pain; 
No joys to him pacific sceptres yield, — 
War sounds the trump, he rushes to the field; 
Behold surrounding kings their pow'rs combine, 
And one capitulate, and one resign: 
Peace courts his hand, but spreads her charms in vain; 
"Think nothing gain'd," he cries, "till naught remain 
On Moscow's walls till Gothic standards fly, 
And all be mine beneath the polar sky." 
The march begins in military state, 
And nations on his eye suspended wait; 
Stern Famine guards the solitary coast, 
And Winter barricades the realms of Frost: 
He comes; nor want nor cold his course delay; — - 
Hide, blushing Glory, hide Pultowa's day: 
The vanquish'd hero leaves his broken bands, 
And shows his miseries in distant lands; 



240 SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 

Condemn'd a needy supplicant to wait, 
While ladies interpose and slaves debate. 
But did not Chance at length her error mend? 
Did no subverted empire mark his end? 
Did rival monarchs give the fatal wound? 
Or hostile millions press him to the ground? 
His fall was destin'd to a barren strand, 
A petty fortress, and a dubious hand. 
He left the name, at which the world grew pale, 
To point a moral, or adorn a tale. 

(From The Vanity of Human Wishes.) 

"Almighty and most merciful Father, who seest all our 
miseries, and knowest all our necessities, look down upon 
me, and pity me. Defend me from the violent incursion of 
evil thoughts, and enable me to form and keep such reso- 
lutions as may conduce to the discharge of the duties which 
Thy Providence shall appoint me; and so help me, by Thy 
Holy Spirit, that my heart may surely there be fixed where 
true joys are to be found, and that I may serve Thee with a 
pure affection and a cheerful mind. Have mercy upon me; 
O God, have mercy upon me; years and infirmities oppress 
me, terror and anxiety beset me. Have mercy upon me, my 
Creator and my Judge. In all perplexities relieve and free 
me; and so help me by Thy Holy Spirit, that I may now 
commemorate the death of Thy Son our Saviour Jesus 
Christ as that, when this short and painful life shall have 
an end, I may, for His sake, be received to everlasting happi- 
ness. Amen." (From Prayers and Meditations.) 

II. Sayings and Anecdotes of Dr. Johnson 1 

The Bishop of Killaloe [Dr. Barnard] informed me, that 
at another time, when Johnson and Garrick were dining 
together in a pretty large company, Johnson humorously 
ascertaining the chronology of something, expressed himself 
thus: "That was the year when I came to London with two- 
pence half -penny in my pocket." Garrick overhearing him 
exclaimed, "Eh? what do you say? with two-pence half- 
penny in your pocket?" Johnson. "Why, yes; when I 

1 From portions of Boswell not included in the text and from other 
Bources. 



SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 241 

came with two-pence half-penny in my pocket, and thou, 
Davy, with three half-pence in thine. " (Bos well.) 

Johnson told me, that as soon as he found that the speeches 
[in the accounts of Parliamentary proceedings] were thought 
genuine, he determined that he would write no more of 
them; "for he would not be accessory to the propagation of 
falsehood." And such was the tenderness of his conscience, 
that a short time before his death he expressed his regret 
for his having been the author of fictions which had passed 
for realities. (Boswell.) 

The character of a " respectable Hottentot," in Lord 
Chesterfield's letters, has been generally understood to be 
meant for Johnson, and I have no doubt that it was. But I 
remember when the Literary Property of those letters was 
contested in the Court of Sessions in Scotland, and Mr. 
Henry Dundas, one of the counsel for the proprietors, read 
this character as an exhibition of Johnson, Sir David Dal- 
rymple, Lord Hailes, one of the Judges, maintained, with 
some warmth, that it was not intended as a portrait of 
Johnson, but of a late noble Lord, distinguished for abstruse 
science. I have heard Johnson himself talk of the character 
and say that it was meant for George Lord Lyttelton, in 
which I could by no means agree; for his Lordship had 
nothing of that violence which is a conspicuous feature in 
the composition. Finding that my illustrious friend could 
bear to have it supposed that it might be meant for him, I 
said, laughingly, that there was one trait which unquestion- 
ably did not belong to him; "he throws his meat anywhere 
but down his throat." "Sir, (said he), Lord Chesterfield 
never saw me eat in his life." (Boswell.) 

Johnson, indeed, upon all other occasions, when I was in 
his company, praised the very liberal charity of Garrick. I 
once mentioned to him, "It is observed, Sir, that you attack 
Garrick yourself, but will suffer nobody else to do it." John- 
son (smiling), "Why, Sir, that is true." (Boswell.) 

We talked of belief in ghosts. He said, "Sir, I make a 
distinction between what a man may experience by the mere 
strength of his imagination, and what imagination cannot 



242 SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 

possibly produce. Thus, suppose I should think that I saw 
a form, and heard a voice cry, ' Johnson, you are a very 
wicked fellow, and unless you repent you will certainly be 
punished ; 1 my own unworthiness is so deeply impressed upon 
my mind, that I might imagine I thus saw and heard, and 
therefore I should not believe that an external communica- 
tion had been made to me. But if a form should appear, 
and a voice should tell me that a particular man had died at 
a particular place, and a particular hour, a fact which I had 
no apprehension of, nor any means of knowing, and this 
fact, with all its circumstances, should afterwards be un- 
questionably proved, I should, in that case, be persuaded 
that I had supernatural intelligence imparted to me." 

Here it is proper, once for all, to give a true and fair state- 
ment of Johnson's way of thinking upon the question, whether 
departed spirits are ever permitted to appear in this world, 
or in any way to operate upon human life. He has been 
ignorantly misrepresented as weakly credulous upon that 
subject; and, therefore, though I feel an inclination to dis- 
dain and treat with silent contempt so foolish a notion con- 
cerning my illustrious friend, yet as I find it has gained 
ground, it is necessary to refute it. The real fact then is, 
that Johnson had a very philosophical mind, and such a 
rational respect for testimony, as to make him submit his 
understanding to what was authentically proved, though he 
could not comprehend why it was so. Being thus disposed, 
he was willing to inquire into the truth of any relation of 
supernatural agency, a general belief of which has prevailed 
in all nations and ages. But so far was he from being the 
dupe of implicit faith, that he examined the matter with a 
jealous attention, and no man was more ready to refute its 
falsehood when he had discovered it. Churchill in his poem 
entitled The Ghost availed himself of the absurd credulity 
imputed to Johnson, and drew a caricature of him under the 
name of Pomposo, representing him as one of the be- 
lievers of the story of a Ghost in Cock-lane, which, in the 
year 1762, had gained very general credit in London. Many 
of my readers, I am convinced, are to this hour under the 



SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 243 

impression that Johnson was thus foolishly deceived. It will 
therefore surprise ^them a good deal when they are informed 
upon undoubted authority, that Johnson was one of those 
by whom the imposture was detected. The story had be- 
come so popular, that he thought it should be investigated; 
and in this research he was assisted by the Reverend Dr. 
Douglas, now Bishop of Salisbury, the great detector of 
impostures; who informs me, that after the gentlemen who 
went and examined into the evidence were satisfied of its 
falsity, Johnson wrote in their presence an account of it, 
which was published in the newspapers and Gentleman's 
Magazine, and undeceived the world. [The account was as 
follows: "On the night of the 1st of February, many gentle- 
men eminent for their rank and character, were, by the 
invitation of the Reverend Mr. Aldrich, of Clerkenwell, as- 
sembled at his house, for the examination of the noises 
supposed to be made by a departed spirit, for the detection 
of some enormous crime. 

" About ten at night the gentlemen met in the chamber in 
which the girl, supposed to be disturbed by a spirit, had, 
with proper caution, been put to bed by several ladies. 
They sat rather more than an hour, and hearing nothing, 
went downstairs, when they interrogated the father of the 
girl, who denied, in the strongest terms, any knowledge or 
belief of fraud. 

"The supposed spirit had before publicly promised, by an 
affirmative knock, that it would attend one of the gentlemen 
into the vault under the church of St. John, Clerkenwell, 
where the body is deposited, and give a token of her presence 
there, by a knock upon her coffin ; it was therefore determined 
to make this trial of the existence or veracity of the supposed 
spirit. 

"While they were enquiring and deliberating, they were 
summoned into the girl's chamber by some ladies who were 
near her bed, and who had heard knocks and scratches. 
When the gentlemen entered, the girl declared that she felt 
the spirit like a mouse upon her back, and was required to 
hold her hands out of bed. From that time, though the 



244 SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 

spirit was very solemnly required to manifest its existence by 
appearance, by impression on the hand or body of any 
present, by scratches, knocks, or any other agency, no evi- 
dence of any preternatural power was exhibited. 

"The Spirit was then very seriously advertised that the 
person to whom the promise was made of striking the coffin, 
was then about to visit the vault, and that the performance of 
the promise was then claimed. The company at one o'clock 
went into the church, and the gentleman to whom the prom- 
ise was made went with another into the vault. The spirit 
was solemnly required to perform its promise, but nothing 
more than silence ensued. The person supposed to be accused 
by the spirit then went down with several others, but no 
effect was perceived. Upon their return they examined the 
girl, but could draw no confession from her. Between two 
and three she desired and was permitted to go home with 
her father. 

"It is, therefore, the opinion of the whole assembly, that 
the child has some art of making or counterfeiting a par- 
ticular noise, and that there is no agency of any higher 
cause."] (Boswell.) 

He expressed great indignation at the imposture of the 
Cock-lane Ghost and related, with much satisfaction, how 
he had assisted in detecting the cheat, and had published an 
account of it in the newspapers. (Boswell.) 

Idleness is a disease which must be combated; but I 
would not advise a rigid adherence to a particular plan of 
study. I myself have never persisted in any plan for two 
days together. A man ought to read just as inclination 
leads him; for what he reads as a task will do him little 
good. A young man should read five hours in a day, and so 
may acquire a great deal of knowledge. (Boswell, quoting 
Johnson.) 

One day when dining at old Mr. Langton's, where Miss 
Roberts, his niece, was one of the company, Johnson, with 
his usual complacent attention to the fair sex, took her by 
the hand and said, "My dear, I hope you are a Jacobite." 
Old Mr. Langton, who, though a high and steady Tory, was 



SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 245 

attached to the present Royal Family, seemed offended, and 
asked Johnson, with great warmth, what he could mean by 
putting such a question to his niece. "Why, Sir, (said John- 
son,) I meant no offence to your niece, I meant her a great 
compliment. A Jacobite, Sir, believes in the divine right of 
Kings. He that believes in the divine right of Kings be- 
lieves in a Divinity. A Jacobite believes in the divine right 
of Bishops. He that believes in the divine right of Bishops 
believes in the divine authority of the Christian religion. 
Therefore, Sir, a Jacobite is neither an Atheist nor a Deist. 
That cannot be said of a Whig; for Whiggism is a negation 
of all principle." (Boswell.) 

One day at Sir Joshua's table, when it was related that 
Mrs. Montague, in an excess of compliment to the author of 
a modern tragedy, had exclaimed, "I tremble for Shakes- 
peare; " Johnson said, "When Shakespeare has got for 

his rival, and Mrs. Montague for his defender, he is in a poor 
state indeed. " (Boswell.) 

"Lord Lytteiton's Dialogues, he deemed a nugatory per- 
formance. 'That man, (said he,) sat down to write a book, 
to tell the world what the world had all his life been telling 
him." (Boswell.) 

"Sir, (said Johnson,) I am a great friend to public amuse- 
ments; for they keep people from vice." (Boswell.) 

"The misfortune of Goldsmith in conversation is this: he 
goes on without knowing how he is to get off. His genius is 
great, but his knowledge is small. As they say of a generous 
man, it is a pity he is not rich, we may say of Goldsmith, it 
is a pity he is not knowing." (Boswell.) 

I spoke of Allan Ramsay's Gentle Shepherd, in the Scottish 
dialect, as the best pastoral that had ever been written; 
not only abounding with beautiful rural imagery, and just 
and pleasing sentiments, but being a real picture of manners; 
and I offered to teach Dr. Johnson to understand it. "No, 
Sir, (said he,) I won't learn it. You shall retain your 
superiority by my not knowing it." (Boswell.) 

There is nothing, I think, in which the power of art is 
shown so much as in playing the fiddle. In all other things 



246 SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 

we can do something at first. Any man will forge a bar of 
iron, if you give him a hammer; not so well as a smith, but 
tolerably. A man will saw a piece of wood, and make a 
box, though a clumsy one; but give him a fiddle, and a 
fiddle-stick, and he can do nothing. (Boswell, quoting 
Johnson.) 

Johnson's own superlative powers of wit set him above 
any risk of such uneasiness. Garrick had remarked to me 
of him, a few days before, " Rabelais and all other wits are 
nothing compared with him. You may be diverted by 
them; but Johnson gives you a forcible hug, and shakes 
laughter out of you, whether you will or no." (Boswell.) 

He described the father of one of his friends thus: "Sir, 
he was so exuberant a talker at public meetings, that the 
gentlemen of his county were afraid of him. No business 
could be done for his declamation." (Boswell.) 

Next day I dined with Johnson at Mr. Thrale's. He 
attacked Gray, calling him "a, dull fellow." Boswell. "I 
understand he was reserved, and might appear dull in com- 
pany; but surely he was not dull in poetry." Johnson. 
"Sir, he was dull in company, dull in his closet, dull every- 
where. He was dull in a new way, and that made many 
people think him great. He was a mechanical poet." 
(Boswell.) 

It is remarkable that he never, so far as I know, assumed 
his title of Doctor, but he called himself Mr. Johnson, as ap- 
pears from many of his cards or notes to myself, and I have 
seen many from him to other persons, in which he uniformly 
takes that designation. — I once observed on his table a 
letter directed to him with the additional Esquire, and 
objected to it as being a designation inferior to that of Doctor; 
but he checked me, and seemed pleased with it, because, as 
I conjectured, he liked to be sometimes taken out of the class 
of literary men, and to be merely genteel, — un gentilhomme 
comme un autre. (Boswell.) 

Mrs. Thrale told us, that Tom Davies repeated, in a very 
bald manner, the story of Dr. Johnson's first repartee to me 
which I have related exactly. He made me say, "I was 



SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 247 

born in Scotland," instead of "I come from Scotland;" so 
that Johnson's saying, "That, Sir, is what a great many of 
your countrymen cannot help," had no point or even mean- 
ing: and that upon this being mentioned to Mr. Fitzherbert, 
he observed, "It is not every man that can carry a bon-mot" 
(Boswell.) 

We were by no means pleased with our inn at Bristol. 
"Let us see now, (said I,) how we should describe it." John- 
son was ready with his raillery. "Describe it, Sir? — Why, 
it was so bad, that Boswell wished to be in Scotland!" 
(Boswell.) 

Talking of biography, I said, in writing a life, a man's 
peculiarities should be mentioned, because they mark his 
character. Johnson. "Sir, there is no doubt as to peculi- 
arities: the question is, whether a man's vices should be 
mentioned; for instance, whether it should be mentioned 
that Addison and Parnell drank too freely; for people will 
probably more easily indulge in drinking from knowing this; 
so that more ill may be done by the example, than good by 
telling the whole truth." Here was an instance of his vary- 
ing from himself in talk ; for when Lord Hailes and he sat one 
morning calmly conversing in my house at Edinburgh, I well 
remember that Dr. Johnson maintained, that "If a man is 
to write A Panegyric, he may keep vices out of sight: but 
if he professes to write A Life, he must represent it really as 
it was;" and when I objected to the danger of telling that 
Parnell drank to excess, he said, that "It would produce an 
instructive caution to avoid drinking, when it was seen, that 
even the learning and genius of Parnell could be debased by 
it." And in the Hebrides he maintained, as appears from 
my "Journal," that a man's intimate friend should mention 
his faults, if he writes his life. (Boswell.) 

Goldsmith, in his diverting simplicity, complained one 
day, in a mixed company, of Lord Camden. "I met him 
(said he) at Lord Clare's house in the country, and he took 
no more notice of me than if I had been an ordinary man." 
The company having laughed heartily, Johnson stood forth 
in defense of his friend. "Nay, Gentlemen, (said he,) Dr. 



248 SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 

Goldsmith is in the right. A nobleman ought to have made 
up to such a man as Goldsmith; and I think it is much 
against Lord Camden that he neglected him." (Boswell.) 

Boswell. "I drank chocolate, Sir, this morning with 
Mr. Eld; and, to my no small surprise, found him to be a 
Staffordshire Whig, a being which I did not believe had ex- 
isted. Johnson. "Sir, there are rascals in all countries." 
(Boswell.) 

Johnson used to say that he made it a constant rule to 
talk as well as he could, both as to sentiment and expression; 
by which means, what had been originally effort became 
familiar and easy. The consequence of this, Sir Joshua 
observed, was, that his common conversation in all com- 
panies was such as to secure him universal attention, as some- 
thing above the usual colloquial style was expected. (Boswell.) 

Sir Joshua Reynolds having said that he took the altitude 
of a man's taste by his stories and his wit, and of his under- 
standing by the remarks which he repeated; being always 
sure that he must be a weak man, who quotes common 
things with an emphasis as if they were oracles ; — Johnson 
agreed with him; and Sir Joshua having also observed that 
the real character of a man was found out by his amuse- 
ments, — Johnson added, "Yes, Sir; no man is a hypocrite 
in his pleasures." (Boswell.) 

I started a thought this afternoon which amused us a 
great part of the way. "If," said I, "our Club should come 
and set up in St. Andrews, as a college, to teach all that each 
of us can in the several departments of learning and taste, 
we should rebuild the city: we should draw a wonderful 
concourse of students." Dr. Johnson entered fully into the 
spirit of this project. We immediately fell to distributing 
the officers. I was to teach civil and Scotch law; Burke, 
politics and eloquence; Garrick, the art of public speaking; 
Langton was to be our Grecian, Colman our Latin professor; 
Nugent to teach physic; Lord Charlemont, modern history; 
Beauclerk, natural philosophy; Vesey, Irish antiquities, or 
Celtic learning; Jones, Oriental learning; Goldsmith, poetry 
and ancient history; Chamier, commercial politics; Rey- 



SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 249 

nolds, painting, and the arts which have beauty for their 
object; Chambers, the law of England. Dr. Johnson at 
first said, "Fll trust theology to nobody but myself." But, 
upon due consideration, that Percy is a clergyman, it was 
agreed that Percy should teach practical divinity and British 
antiquities; Dr. Johnson himself, logic, metaphysics, and 
scholastic divinity. In this manner did we amuse ourselves, 
each suggesting, and each varying or adding, till the whole 
was adjusted. Dr. Johnson said, we only wanted a mathe- 
matician since Dyer died, who was a very good one; but as 
to everything else, we should have a very capital university. 
(Boswell.) 

"Why, Sir, if you are to have but one book with you upon 
a journey, let it be a book of science. When you have read 
through a book of entertainment, you know it, and it can 
do no more for you; but a book of science is inexhaustible." 
(Boswell.) 

Talking of biography, he said, he did not think that the 
life of any literary man in England had been well written. 
Besides the common incidents of life, it should tell us his 
studies, his mode of living, the means by which he attained 
to excellence, and his opinion of his own works. (Boswell.) 

I am happy, however, to mention a pleasing instance of 
his enduring with great gentleness to hear one of his most 
striking particularities pointed out: Miss Hunter, a niece of 
his friend, Christopher Smart, when a very young girl, 
struck by his extraordinary motions, said to him, "Pray, 
Dr. Johnson, why do you make such strange gestures?" 
"From bad habit," he replied: "do you, my dear, take care 
to guard against bad habits." This was told by the young 
lady's brother at Margate. (Boswell.) 

Books that you may carry to the fire and hold readily in 
your hand are the most useful after all. (Hawkins.) 

I am very fond of the company of ladies. I like their 
beauty, I like their delicacy, I like their vivacity, and I like 
their silence. (Seward.) 

The advice that is wanted is commonly unwelcome, and that 
which is not wanted is evidently impertinent. (Piozzi Letters.) 



250 SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 

Allow children to be happy their own way, for what better 
way will they ever find? (Piozzi Letters.) 

"There are," said Dr. Johnson, "three distinct kinds of 
judges upon all new authors or productions. The first are 
those who know no rules, but pronounce entirely from their 
natural tastes and feelings; the second are those who know 
and judge by rules; and the third are those who know, but 
are above the rules. These last are those you should wish 
to satisfy. Next to them rate the natural judges; but ever 
despise the opinions that are formed by the rules." (Madame 
D'Arblay's Diary.) 

Mr. Crauford being engaged to dinner where Dr. Johnson 
was to be, resolved to pay his court to him; and having 
heard that he preferred Donne's Satires to Pope's version 
of them said, "Do you know, Dr. Johnson, that I like Dr. 
Donne's original Satires better than Pope's?" Johnson said, 
"Well, sir, I can't help that." (Murray's Johnsoniana.) 

It was near the close of Johnson's life that two young 
ladies, who were warm admirers of his works but had never 
seen him, went to Bolt's Court and asking if he was at home, 
were shown upstairs where he was writing. He laid down his 
pen on their entrance; and, as'they stood before him, one of 
the females repeated a speech of some length previously 
prepared for the occasion. It was an enthusiastic effusion, 
and when the speaker had finished, she panted for a reply. 
What was her mortification when all he said was, "Fiddle- 
de-dee, my dear." (Murray's Johnsoniana.) 

In answer to the arguments urged by Puritans, Quakers, 
etc., against showy decorations of the human figure, I once 
heard him exclaim: "Oh, let us not be found, when our 
Master calls us, ripping the lace off our waistcoats, but the 
spirit of contention from our souls and tongues! . . . Alas! 
sir, a man who cannot get to heaven in a green coat will not 
find his way thither the sooner in a gray one." (Piozzi's 
Anecdotes.) 

I made one day very minute inquiries about the tale of 
his knocking down Tom Osborne the bookseller. "And how 
was that affair? in earnest? do tell me, Mr. Johnson." "There 



SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 251 

is nothing to tell, dearest lady, but that he was insolent and 
I beat him, and that he was a blockhead and told of it, which 
I should never have done. I have beat many a fellow, but the 
rest had the wit to hold their tongues." (Piozzi's Anecdotes.) 

The size of a man's understanding may always be justly 
measured by his mirth. (Piozzi's Anecdotes.) 

I asked Mr. Johnson if he ever disputed with his wife. 
" Perpetually," said he; "my wife had a particular reverence 
for cleanliness, and desired the praise of neatness in her dress 
and furniture, as many ladies do, till they become trouble- 
some to their best friends, slaves to their own besoms, and 
only sigh for the hour of sweeping their husbands out of the 
house as dirt and useless lumber. A clean floor is so com- 
fortable, she would say sometimes by way of twitting; till 
at last I told her that I thought we had had talk enough about 
the floor, we would now have a touch at the ceiling." I 
asked him if he ever huffed his wife about his dinner. "So 
often," he replied, "that at last she called to me and said, 
' Nay, hold, Mr. Johnson, and do not make a farce of thank- 
ing God for a dinner which in a few minutes you will protest 
not eatable/ " (Piozzi's Anecdotes.) 

We talked of Lady Tavistock, who grieved herself to 
death for the loss of her husband. "She w T as rich and with- 
out employment," said Johnson, "so she cried till she lost 
all power of restraining her tears: other women are forced 
to outlive their husbands, who were just as much beloved, 
depend on it; but they have no time for grief; and I doubt 
not, if we had put Lady Tavistock into a small chandler's 
shop, and given her a nurse-child to tend, her life would 
have been saved. The poor and the busy have no leisure for 
sentimental sorrow." (Piozzi's Anecdotes.) 

Mrs. Brooke asked Johnson to look over her Siege of 
Sinope; he always found means to evade it. At last she 
pressed him so closely that he refused to do it, and told her 
that she herself, by carefully looking it over, would be able 
to see if there was anything amiss as well as he could. "But, 
sir," said she, "I have no time. I have already too many 
irons in the fire." "Why, then, madam," said he, quite out 



252 SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 

of patience, "the best thing I can advise you to do is to put 
your tragedy along with your irons. " (Hannah More's 
Memoirs.) 

"A story/' said Johnson, "is a specimen of human manners 
and derives its sole value from its truth. When Foote has 
told me something, I dismiss it from my mind like a passing 
shadow; when Reynolds tells me something, I consider my- 
self as possessed of an idea the more." (Piozzi's Anecdotes.) 

Every man has some time in his life an ambition to be a 
wag. (Madame D'Arbky's Diary, quoting Johnson.) 

A large party had been invited to meet the doctor at 
Stow Hill. The dinner waited far beyond the usual hour, 
and the company were about to sit down, when Johnson ap- 
peared at the great gate. He stood for some time in deep 
contemplation, and at length began to climb it; and, having 
succeeded in clearing it, advanced with hasty strides towards 
the house. On his arrival Mrs . Gastrcl asked him if he had 
forgotten there was a small gate for foot-passengers by the 
side of the carriage-entrance? "No, my dear lady, by no 
means," replied the doctor; "but I had a mind to try whether 
I could climb a gate now as I used to do when I was a lad." 
(Parker.) 

No man was ever mora zealously attached to his party: 
he not only loved a Tory himself, but he loved a man the 
better if he hated a Whig. "Dear Bathurst," said he to me 
one day, "was a man to my very heart's content: he hated 
a fool, and he hated a rogue, and he hated a Whig — he was 
a very good hater." (Piozzi's Anecdotes.) 

Mr. Thrale loved prospects, and was mortified that his 
friend could not enjoy the sight of those different dispositions 
of wood and water, hill and valley, that traveling through 
England and France affords a man. But when he wished to 
point them out to his companion, "Never heed such non- 
sense," would be the reply; "a blade of grass is always a 
blade of grass, whether in one country or another. Let us, 
if we do talk, talk about something. Men and women are 
my subjects of inquiry; let us see how these differ from those 
we have left behind." (Piozzi's Anecdotes.) 



SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 253 

One of Dr. Johnson's rudest speeches was to a pompous 
gentleman coming out of Lichfield Cathedral, who said, 
"Dr. Johnson, we have had a most excellent discourse to- 
day." "That may be," said Johnson, "but it is impossible 
that you should know it." (Cradock.) 

A young fellow, very confident in his abilities, lamented 
one day that he had lost all his Greek. "I believe it hap- 
pened at the same time, sir," said Johnson, "that I lost all 
my large estate in Yorkshire." (Piozzi's Anecdotes.) 

Mrs. Thrale complained that she was quite worn out with 
that tiresome silly woman who had talked of her family and 
affairs till she was sick to death of hearing her. "Madam," 
said he, "why do you blame the woman for the only sensible 
thing she could do — talking of her family and her affairs? 
For how should a woman who is as empty as a drum talk 
upon any other subject? If you speak to her of the sun, she 
does not know that it rises in the east. If you speak to her 
of the moon, she does not know it changes at the full. If 
you speak to her of the queen, she does not know she is the 
king's wife. How, then, can you blame her for talking of her 
family and affairs?" (Madame D'Arblay's Diary.) 

Mrs. Digby was present at the introduction of Dr. Johnson 
at one of the late Mrs. Montagu's literary parties, when she 
herself, with several still younger ladies, almost immediately 
surrounded our Colossus of literature (an odd figure, sure 
enough) with more wonder than politeness; and while con- 
templating him as if he had been some monster from the 
deserts of Africa, Johnson said to them, "Ladies, I am tame; 
you may stroke me! " (B. N. Turner.) 

When Mrs. Siddons 1 came into the room, there happened 
to be no chair ready for her. Observing this, he said, with 
a smile, "Madam, you who so often occasion a want of seats 
to other people will the more easily excuse the want of one 
yourself." (J. P. Kemble, reported in Boswell.) 

I must here mention an incident which shows how ready 
Johnson was to make amends for any little incivility. When 
I called upon him the morning after he had pressed me rather 
1 The famous actress. 



254 SAYINGS AND ANECDOTES 

roughly to read louder, he said, "I was peevish yesterday; 
you must forgive me. When you are as old and as sick as 
I am, perhaps you may be peevish too." I have heard him 
make many apologies of this kind. (Hoole.) 

Garrick was followed to the Abbey by a long extended 
train of friends, illustrious for their rank and genius. I saw 
old Samuel Johnson standing beside his grave, at the foot of 
Shakespeare's monument, and bathed in tears. (Richard 
Cumberland.) 

I shall never forget the impression I felt in Dr. Johnson's 
favor the very first time I was in his company, on his saying 
that, as he returned to his lodgings, at one or two o'clock in 
the morning, he often saw poor children asleep on thresholds 
and stalls, and that he used to put pennies into their hands 
to buy them a breakfast. (Miss Reynolds.) 



NOTES 

8. Minutely Critical. "His blindness is as much the effect of 
absence [of mind] as of infirmity, for he sees wonderfully at times. 
He can see the color of a lady's top-knot, for he very often finds 
fault with it." — Madame D'Arblay's Diary, ii, 174. (Hill, i, 48.) 

9. Carte. Thomas Carte (1686-1754) proposed to write a history 
of England from original sources, but never proceeded further than 
the reign of John. He cited an instance of the cure of scrofula by 
the royal touch. (Hill, i, 49.) 

9. Queen Anne. Macaulay (History of England, xiv) says that 
Charles II, in the course of his reign, touched nearly a thousand 
persons. The expense of the ceremony was little less than ten 
thousand pounds a year. On March 30, 1712, two hundred persons 
were touched by Queen Anne. (Hill, i, 50.) 

9. Francesco Petrarch (1304-1374). An Italian scholar and poet, 
whose researches helped to bring on the Renaissance. Dr. Johnson 
read not Petrarch's Italian poems, but his learned works in Latin. 

9. Anacreon. A Greek poet of the fifth century b.c. His verse 
was mostly of a light character. 

9. Hesiod. A Greek poet, probably contemporary with Homer. 
He wrote didactic works, chief among which is the Works and Days. 

10. Nineteenth year Dr. Hill has pointed out that this should 
be his "twentieth year." 

11. Robert Burton (1577-1640). "A melancholy and humorous 
person," author of the Anatomy of Melancholy. Lamb called him 
"that fantastic great old man." 

11. Maerobius. A Latin grammarian and statesman of the fourth 
century, who was hostile to Christianity. 

11. Relieved Johnson once told Hawkins that he knew not 
what it was to be totally free from pain. (Cf. Hill, i, 74.) 

12. Insanity. "Of the uncertainties of our present state, the 
most dreadful and alarming is the uncertain continuance of reason." 
— Rasselas, Chap. 43. (Hill, i, 77.) 

12. Horace (65-8 b.c). The pleasantest of Latin poets, author 
of lyrics, epistles in verse, an essay on poetry, satires, etc. 

12. Euripides (480-406 B.C.). The most modern in spirit of the 
great Athenian tragic poets. 

12. Epigram (Greek). The Greek Anthology contains a collection 
of epigrams — brief, pithy poems not necessarily witty. 

13. Richard Bentley (1662-1742). One of the greatest of English 
classical scholars. 

13. Samuel Clarke (1675-1729). A writer on theology. 
13. From beginning to end. According to Mrs. Piozzi, Johnson 
asked: "Was there ever yet anything written by mere man that was 

255 



256 NOTES 

wished longer by its readers excepting Don Quixote, Robinson Crusoe, 
and The Pilgrim's Progress? " (Cf. Hill, i, 82.) 

13. With rapid exertion. He told Dr. Burney, says Malone, that 
he never wrote any of his works that were printed twice over. Dr. 
Burney' s wonder at seeing several pages of his Lives of the Poets in 
manuscript, with scarce a blot or erasure, drew this observation from 
him. 

15. The newspaper. The Birmingham Journal. 

16. He wore his hair. That is, he did not wear a wig at this time. 
16. Mrs. Porter. Born Feb. 4, 1689, married to Johnson, July 9, 

1735. She brought her second husband about seven or eight hundred 
pounds, it is believed. (Cf. Hill, i, 111.) 

18. Usher of a school. For a brief period, Johnson had acted as 
usher in the school of Market-Bosworth, in Leicestershire. Boswell 
describes this episode of Johnson's life in a passage omitted in the 
text. 

18. Described her. Mrs. Piozzi remarks: "The picture I found 
of her at Lichfield was very pretty, and her daughter said it was 
very like. Mr. Johnson has told me that her hair was eminently 
beautiful, quite blonde like that cf a baby." {Anecdotes, 148.) 

19. Not particularly known. One curious anecdote was com- 
municated by himself to Mr. John Nichols. Mr. Wilcox, the book- 
seller, on being informed by him that his intention was to get his 
livelihood as an author, eyed his robust frame attentively, and with 
a significant look said, "You had better buy a porter's knot." He 
however added, "Wilcox was one of my best friends." — Boswell. 

21. Assurance of the man. "To give the world assurance of a 
man." Hamlet, hi. 4.62. 

21. Juvenal (55?-125?). A vitriolic Roman satirist. 

22. He might dislike. Dr. Hill notes that Boswell misread the 
letter. Johnson was to make any necessary alterations, not the 
printer. 

22. Alexander Pope (1688-1744). The greatest poet of the 
eighteenth century, and yet, in modern opinion, not a poet at all, 
but merely a writer of remarkably good verse. Pope is the inter- 
preter of the town, of human nature, and of the upper classes in 
society. Johnson cherished a very high opinion of Pope. He said 
that the question "Was Pope a poet?" was to be answered only by 
asking "If Pope be not a poet, where is poetry to be found?" 

22. Mr. Richardson, son of the painter, Jonathan Richardson. 
The latter wrote several works on painting. His son, also Jonathan, 
published with his father Explanatory Notes on Paradise Lost. (Cf. 
Hill, i, 149.) 

22. Marmor Norfolciense. A pamphlet, published anonymously, 
of "warm anti-Hanoverian zeal." 

23. "Paper-sparing Pope. ,, "Pope's frugality," says Johnson 
in his Life of Pope, "sometimes appeared in petty artifices of par- 
simony, such as the practice of writing his compositions on the back 



NOTES 257 

of letters, as may be seen in the remaining copy of the Iliad, by 
which perhaps in five years five shillings were saved." But he ex- 
cuses Pope in part because of his determination "not to be in want." 

25. Kichard Savage (1697-1743). An unfortunate man and a 
poor poet. Savage engaged in a famous lawsuit to prove his right 
to a title, but unsuccessful^, and he died in poverty and obscurity. 
Johnson's Life has preserved him from oblivion. Savage provided 
Pope with information for his Dunciad and received pay for this. 
His own writings are valueless, according to modern opinion. 
Johnson's friendship for him, however, found his works "the pro- 
ductions of a genius truly poetical," and he discovered in them "an 
original air, which has no resemblance of any foregoing writer." 

25. Melancholy to reflect. According to Walter Harte, author of 
a Life of Gustavus Adolphus, who communicated the information to 
Boswell, through Richard Stowe of Bedfordshire, Johnson's indi- 
gence was extreme indeed at this time. Shortly after The Life of 
Savage was published, Harte dined with Edward Cave, and praised 
the book. Soon after Cave met him and said: "You made a man 
happy t'other day." "How could that be?" asked Harte; "nobody 
was there but ourselves." Cave answered by reminding him that 
a plate of victuals had been sent behind a screen. This had gone to 
Johnson, who was dressed so shabbily that he did not choose to ap- 
pear. But he heard the conversation, and was highly delighted with 
the encomiums on his book. 

27. Distressed Mother. A play by Ambrose Philips. Johnson said 
of Philips that in some of liis poemo "he cannot be denied the praise 
of lines sometimes elegant, but he has seldom much force or much 
comprehension. ' ' 

30. Junius and Skinner's Dictionary. Francis Junius (1589- 
1677) and Stephen Skinner (1623-1667) were among the first to 
study the Teutonic languages. Their etymological dictionaries 
greatly assisted Johnson. 

32. Dr. Richard Bathurst. Johnson once referred to Bathurst 
as "my dear, dear Bathurst, whom I loved better than ever I loved 
any human creature." (Piozzi, Anecdotes, 18.) 

32. John Hawkins, an attorney. Boswell appended this note 
concerning Hawkins, whom he heartily disliked, as a rival to the 
favor of Johnson and author of his authorized biography: "He 
was afterwards for several years Chairman of the Middlesex Justices, 
and upon occasion of presenting an address to the King, accepted 
the usual offer of Knighthood. He is author of A History of Music, 
in five quarto volumes. By assiduous attention upon Johnson in his 
last illness, he obtained the office of one of his executors; in con- 
sequence of which the booksellers of London employed him to pub- 
lish an edition of Dr. Johnson's works, and to write his life." 

34. The nine years of Horace. Horace, the Latin poet, advised 
in his essay on poetry that an author polish and revise a work nine 
years before publishing it. 



258 NOTES 

34. Strangled upon the stage. The strangling of Irene in view of 
the audience was suggested by Garrick. 

35. Eobert Dodsley (1703-1764). His Collection of Old Plays 
(1744) did much to revive interest in Shakespeare's contemporaries. 

35. The Taller, Spectator, and Guardian. Three periodicals con- 
ducted by Sir Richard Steele and Joseph Addison. In the second 
appeared the famous character, Sir Roger de Coverley. These 
essays are the forerunners of the modern English novel. 

36. " A man may write %t any time." Johnson wrote concerning 
the poet Gray: "Gray had a notion not very peculiar, that he could 
not write but at certain times, or at happy moments; a fantastic 
foppery, to which my kindness for a man of learning and virtue 
wishes him to have been superior." Works, viii, 482. 

36. Samuel Richardson (1689-1761). Richardson was a shy and 
highly respectable printer who at the age of fifty began a new era 
with the publication of his novel, Pamela. His two other stories, 
Clarissa Harlowe and Sir Charles Grandison, are the first master- 
pieces of the modern analytic novel. Johnson esteemed him highly. 

36. Without even being read over.. Nevertheless, when Johnson 
revised the Rambler essays for the collected edition, he made more 
than 6000 alterations. 

39. Joseph Addison (1672-1719). Part author of the Taller 
and Spectator papers. Addison is regarded as one of the chief 
founders of modern English prose, the modern newspaper, and the 
modern English novel. "There is in most of his compositions," says 
Johnson, "a calmness and equability, deliberate and cautious, some- 
times with little that delights, but seldom with anything that offends." 
And again he remarks that "as a describer of life and manners, he 
must be allowed to stand perhaps the first of the first rank." Mac- 
aulay's Essay on Addison, which should be consulted, is written in a 
tone of the highest enthusiasm. See also Franklin's remarks on 
Addison in his Autobiography. 

39. 17th of March, 0. S. Previous to 1753, the year began not 
with January 1st, but with March 25th. Moreover, the calendar 
had gradually fallen behind true chronology eleven days. On Sept. 
3, 1752, these eleven days were canceled, and the following day was 
called Sept. 15th. The old calendar is referred to as 0[ld] S[tyle]. 

39. "A lesson he had learned by rote." A quotation from Sir 
John Hawkins's biography of Johnson. 

40. Reynolds. Sir Joshua Reynolds said of Johnson: "For my 
own part, I acknowledge the highest obligations to him. He may 
be said to have formed my mind, and to have brushed from it a 
great deal of rubbish." It was said of Reynolds, to show how little 
he crouched to the great, of whom he painted so many, that he 
never gave them their proper titles, avoiding the use of the terms, 
"your lordship" and "your ladyship;" nor did he ever say "Sir" 
in speaking to anyone but Dr. Johnson. (Cf. Hill, i, 285.) In 
Boswell's Journal of the Hebrides tour, Johnson says: "Sir Joshua 



NOTES 259 

Reynolds, Sir, is the most invulnerable man I know; the man with 
whom if you should quarrel, you would find the most difficulty how 
to abuse." 

41. Rochefoucault. Francois, due de la Rochefoucault (1613- 
1680), was a French writer, author of Maxims that constitute a 
satirical comment on men's foibles. One of his most famous say- 
ings is this: "Ingratitude is simply the spirit of independence. " 
Another is: "Hypocrisy is the homage that vice pays to virtue." 

41. A grant of free warren. A franchise to keep in an enclosure 
certain wild animals for hunting purposes. 

41. Topham Beauclerk. Beau clerk was the great-grandson of 
Charles II and Nell Gwynne. He was born in December, 1739. 

42. That liquor called Bishop. A beverage containing port wine, 
oranges or lemons, and sugar. 

42. "Short, short." An imperfect quotation from Lansdowne'a 
Drinking Song to Sleep. 

43. Lord Chesterfield. Chesterfield (1694-1773) had many claims 
to eminence, although he is now chiefly remembered in connection 
with Johnson. He was a brilliant orator — ■ his parliamentary career 
covering forty years — and a noted wit. He proved an excellent 
Lord Lieutenant of Ireland in 1745-46 and Secretary of State from 
1746-48. His Letters to His Son (1774) are of an extreme elegance 
and distinction. They were composed as a guide to the lad in prin- 
ciples, in deportment, and in sentiment. These Letters had a great 
success and are still a kind of classic. The politeness of Chester- 
field was proverbial — his last recorded words while dying were, 
"Give Dayrolies a chair." But apparently he was not polite to 
Johnson. Perhaps a servant was at fault. At any rate, Chester- 
field became the occasion for ending an old era in literature — the 
era of patronage — and opening a new era — the era of the public. 

43. Colley Cibber (1671-1757). An English dramatist and poet 
laureate (1730-1757). His account of his own life is considered his 
best work, but some of his comedies possess considerable merit. He 
was the chief figure in the second version of The Dunciad of Pope, 
with whom he carried on an animated controversy for some years. 

44. " All was false and hollow." Paradise Lost, ii, 112. 

44. To give it me. Dr. Johnson appeared to have had a remark- 
able delicacy with respect to the circulation of this letter; for Dr. 
Douglas, Bishop of Salisbury, informs me that, having many years 
ago pressed him to be allowed to read it to the second Lord Hard- 
wicke, who was very desirous to hear it (promising at the same time 
that no copy of it should be taken), Johnson seemed much pleased 
that it had attracted the attention of a nobleman of such a respect- 
able character; but after pausing some time, declined to comply 
with the request, saying, with a smile, "No, Sir. I have hurt the 
dog too much already;" or words to that purpose. — Boswell. 

45. Virgil (70-19 b.c). A Roman epic poet, author of The 
Mneid, a continuation of Homer's Iliad. Virgil's style is accounted 



260 NOTES 



the most felicitous in Latin literature. Dryden said of him that he 
"is everywhere elegant, sweet, and flowing in his hexameters. 
George Edward Woodberry sums up his achievement in these words: 
"He, more than any other poet, has been a part of the intellectual 
life of Europe alike by length of sway and by the multitude of minds 
he has touched in all generations; and, among the Latin races, he is 
still the climax of their genius, for charm and dignity, for art and 
the profound substance of his matter, and for its serious inclusive- 
ness of human life." Tennyson, in his magnificent poem, To Virgil, 
calls him "lord of language," and speaks of "All the charm of all 
the Muses often flowering in a lonely word" in Virgil's poems. 

48. A few of his definitions must be admitted to be erroneous. 
In addition to defining certain words incorrectly, Johnson indulged 
his prejudices or his sense of humor in the case of other words. For 
example, he defined excise "a tax levied on commodities, and ad- 
judged not by the common judges of property, but by wretches 
hired by those to whom excise is paid." Oats he defined: "A grain, 
which in England is generally given to horses, but in Scotland sup- 
ports the people." A lexicographer he defined: "A writer of dic- 
tionaries, a harmless drudge." Network he defined: "Anything 
reticulated or decussated, at equal distances, with interstices be- 
tween the intersections." 

49. Grub-street. Johnson told Fanny Burney that he had never 
visited this London street. 

52. Thomas Wart on. Warton (1728-1790) was a clergyman, 
poet laureate from 1785 to the time of his death, and author of a 
History of English Poetry. He was a lover of old poetry, and to- 
gether with Dr. Thomas Percy did much to revive it in favor. He 
and his brother, Joseph Warton, formed part of the Johnson circle. 

53. Contemplation of mortality. A quotation from Sir John 
Hawkins's biography of Johnson. 

58. John Wilkes (1727-1797). An English politician and agi- 
tator, one of the earliest representatives of the "popular rights" 
party. He engaged in many violent altercations with the Tory 
faction, particularly in the columns of his periodical, The North 
Briton. He was imprisoned for writing an article attacking George 
III, but the law of the liberty of the press having been invoked, he 
was freed, much to the general delight. 

58. Tobias Smollett (1721-1771), author of Roderick Random, Pere- 
grine Pickle, Humphrey Clinker, etc., novels of comic adventure, full of 
violence, coarse humor, and horse-play. He had considerable influence 
on later writers like Scott, Charles Reade, Charles Lever, and Dickens. 

58. That great Cham of literature. Cham is a variation of Khan 
— a Tartar ruler. Cham is now no longer used except in connection 
with Johnson. 

60. The Earl of Bute (1713-1792). John Stuart, the Earl of 
Bute, was prime minister of England from May, 1762, to April, 1763. 
He was extremely unpopular. 






NOTES 261 

60. Pension and pensioners. Johnson in his Dictionary had defined 
pension as " an allowance made to anyone without an equivalent. 
In England it is generally understood to mean pay given to a state 
hireling for treason to his country." Pensioner is referred to as "a 
dependent." 

64. Thomas Sheridan. Father of the famous dramatist and 
orator, Richard Brinsley Sheridan. He was a teacher of elocution 
in London. 

68. The Elements of Criticism. By Lord Karnes (1696-1782). 

69. James Macpherson (1736-1796) claimed to have discovered a 
cycle of poems written by Ossian, a legendary Gaelic bard of the 
third century, and his supposed translation of these poems into 
rhythmical English prose (1760-1763) created a sensation, not only 
in Great Britain, but all over Europe. Johnson's view that Mac- 
pherson had forged his version has been sustained by investigation, 
although it is likely that Macpherson incorporated a few fragments 
of genuine Gaelic verse in his "translation." Wordsworth, pointed 
out that the fact that "Ossian" produced no imitators in itself is a 
"decisive proof that the book is essentially unnatural; nor should 
1 require any other to demonstrate it to be a forgery, audacious as 
worthless." Macpherson took advantage of appointments in 
Florida and India to amass a considerable fortune, and for sixteen 
years he was M. P for Camelford, in Cornwall. By a curious 
irony of fate, he is buried within a few feet of Johnson, in West- 
minster Abbey. 

69. Reverend Dr. Blair. Hugh Blair (1718-1800) was an ex- 
tremely popular pulpit orator. In book form his sermons found 
"tens of thousands of admirers," says Gosse, who characterizes him 
as "once among the most prominent," but "now perhaps the most 
obsolete of English writers." 

70. Christopher Smart (1722-1770). A writer of this time, un- 
doubtedly mad, but author of one magnificent poem, the Song to 
David. About 1762 Johnson visited him in Bedlam and prayed 
with him. He had been a fellow of Pembroke College. 

71- Grotius. Hugh Grotius (1583-1645) was a famous Dutch 
writer on religion and international law. 

71. Dr. Pearson. John Pearson (1613-1686) was an English 
clergyman, author of Exposition of the Creed. For Clarke, see 
earlier note, page 255. 

73. Birthday Odes. As poet laureate, it was Colley Cibber's 
duty to write verses in honor of the birthday anniversaries of mem- 
bers of the royal family, as well as for their marriages and deaths. 
This function of the office has always resulted in ridicule of the 
poet laureates. Not even Wordsworth or Tennyson could write 
much better poetry of this kind than poetasters like Whitehead or 
Pye. 

73. Whitehead. William Whitehead (1715-1785) was Cibber's 
successor as poet laureate. 



262 NOTES 

73. Gray. Thomas Gray is, of course, best known as the author 

of An Elegy in a Country Churchyard. Johnson constantly cherished 
an antipathy to Gray, and seemed totally unable to appreciate 
his fine sympathy with nature or his understanding of human 
suffering. He said of Gray, "He has a kind of strutting dignity, 
and is tall by walking on tiptoe." To only four stanzas of the 
Elegy, out of all Gray's poetry, did Johnson give unqualified ap- 
proval. Yet of the Elegy Gosse has said that it "is the most char- 
acteristic single poem of the eighteenth century," and it is probably 
read with pleasure by more people who do not otherwise read poetry 
than any other poem in the language. Gray is described as "a 
little plump person, very shy, with a fund of latent humor; the 
tottering and gingerly way in which he walked was the subject of 
ridicule, and he was altogether too delicate for the rough age he 
lived in." Cowper thought Gray "the only poet since Shakespeare 
entitled to the character of sublime." 

74. David Mallet (1700-1765). A Scotch poet who wrote Alfred, 
A Masque, in collaboration with James Thomson. Rule, Britannia, 
sung for the first time in this play, may have been written by 
Mallet, 

75. "I can do it better myself." He went home with Mr. Burke 
to supper; and broke his shin by attempting to exhibit to the com- 
pany how much better he could jump over a stick than the puppets. 
— Boswell. 

80. Swift. Jonathan Swift (1667-1745) was the bitterest satirist 
in English — perhaps in all literature. His Gulliver's Travels is read 
chiefly by children, who naturally miss its pitiless satire. Carlyle 
thought Swift the greatest man of his age, and Thackeray said that 
"thinking of him is like thinking of an empire falling." Swift's life 
was extremely unhappy, because his pride made him feel constantly 
that he never had the honor and the place that were his due. To 
most of his contemporaries he seemed violent and hard, but his 
private papers reveal him as at bottom tender and kind-hearted. 
Like Johnson, he lived in constant fear of insanity, but unlike him 
he died in that condition. 

80. James Thomson (1700-1748). A Scotch poet, whose poem, 
The Seasons, "showed to Londoners the way to the fields." He 
also probably wrote the English national hymn, Rule, Britannia. 
Johnson said of him: "As a writer, he is entitled to one praise of the 
highest kind: his mode of thinking and of expressing his thoughts 
is original. . . . He thinks in a peculiar train, and he thinks always 
as a man of genius; he looks round on Nature and on life with the 
eye which Nature bestows only on a poet; the eye that distinguishes 
in everything presented to its view whatever there is on which 
imagination can delight to be detained, and with a mind that at 
once comprehends the vast and attends to the minute." Thomson 
did much to bring on the Romantic Movement in English 
poetry. 



NOTES 263 

80. "Has not — a great deal of wit?" Apparently the allusion 
is to Burke, says Hill. 

83. A very fashionable Baronet. My friend Sir Michael Le 
Fleming. This gentleman, with all his experience of sprightly and 
elegant life, inherits, with the beautiful family domain, no incon- 
siderable share of that love of literature, which distinguished his 
venerable grandfather, the Bishop of Carlisle. He one day observed 
to me, of Dr. Johnson, in a felicity of phrase, "There is a blunt 
dignity about him on every occasion." — Boswell. 

85. Gulosity. Greediness. 

87. Big words for little matters. Yet, as Croker pointed out, 
Johnson makes a young lady talk of "the cosmetic discipline, " 
while a young gentleman tells us of "the flaccid sides of a foot-ball 
having swelled out into stiffness and extension." 

88. Dr. Nugent. A physician, the father-in-law of Burke. 

88. Mr. Chamier. A stockbroker early in life; later, simply a 
gentleman of leisure. 

92. Doctor of Laws. In his Journey to the Hebrides, Johnson re- 
marks: "It is reasonable to suppose . . . that he who is by age 
qualified to be a doctor has in so much time gained learning sufficient 
not to disgrace the title, or wit sufficient not to desire it." (Hill, i, 
565.) 

92. Mr. Thrale. In Murphy's Johnson (Hill, i, 571) it is said of 
Thrale: "A more ingenious mind no man possessed. His education 
at Oxford gave him the habits of a gentleman; his amiable temper 
recommended his conversation; and the goodness of his heart made 
him a sincere friend." Madame D'Arblay mentions a trait of 
Thrale's that perhaps explains his fondness for Johnson's society. 
"Though entirely a man of peace," she says, "and a gentleman in 
his character, he had a singular amusement in hearing, instigating, 
and provoking a war of words, alternating triumph and overthrow, 
between clever and ambitious colloquial combatants, where there 
was nothing that could inflict disgrace upon defeat." — Memoirs of 
Dr. Burney, ii, 104. (Hill, i, 572.) 

93. Mrs. Thrale. Mrs. Thrale preserved very full, though not 
particularly accurate, records of the intercourse of her estimable 
husband with Johnson; since her death these have been published 
in part. 

96. Voltaire (1694-1778). A French writer whose influence in his 
time was world-wide. He wrote novels, dramas, short stories, 
histories, epics, essays, and a "philosophical dictionary." He is an 
excellent representative of the French spirit of skeptical inquiry; 
he did much to make possible the widening freedom of thought in 
science and philosophy of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. 

96. Dryden. "Glorious John" Dryden (1631-1700) wrote plays, 
verses, and prose, besides making a number of translations. He 
helped create the modern paragraph and to establish sound literary 
criticism. His satires are unequaled in English. He is sometimes 



264 NOTES 

called "the greatest man of a little age." Johnson said of him: 
"His compositions are the effects of a vigorous genius operating upon 
large materials;" and, again, that he found English poetry brick 
and left it marble. 

96. Burke. Burke entered Parliament, as member for Wendover 
Borough, in 1766. 

98. His Majesty. George III is, of course, the monarch referred 
to. 

100. Controversy between Warburton and Lowth. William 
Warburton (1698-1779), whom Johnson admired highly, was a very 
pugnacious theologian and critic. Robert Lowth (1710-1787) was 
an English divine and scholar. 

101. Dr. HilL Aaron Hill (1685-1750) was a minor English poet 
and dramatist, mentioned in Pope's Dunciad. According to 
D'Israeli's Curiosities of Literature (Hill, ii, 44), Hill once owned to 
a friend that he had overfatigued himself with writing seven works 
at once, one of which was on architecture and another on cookery. 
At one time Hill contracted to translate a Dutch work on insects for 
fifty guineas. As he was ignorant of the language, he bargained with 
another translator to do the work for twenty-five guineas. This 
man, who was equally ignorant, rebargained with a third, who per- 
fectly understood his original, to make the version for twelve guineas. 

102. Dr. Joseph Warton (1722-1800). Brother of the more 
famous Thomas Warton. He edited Pope, but in a critical spirit. 
Like his brother, he preferred a freer and wilder poetry than Pope 
represented. 

103. The bear. It was said, in reference to the pensions granted 
to Dr. Johnson and a certain Dr. Shebbeare, that the king had pen- 
sioned a he-bear and a she-bear. 

105. One of the company. Boswell himself, according to North- 
cote's Biography of Reynolds. 

106. Zimri. A character in Dryden's Absalom and Achitophel. 
He is a brilliant satire on the Duke of Buckingham. Dryden de- 
scribes him thus: 

"A man so various that he seemed to be 

Not one, but all mankind's epitome; 

Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong, 

Was everything by starts and nothing long; 

But in the course of one revolving moon 

Was chymist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon." 

106. The Mourning Bride. A drama by William Congreve 
(1670-1729), the most brilliant of English writers of comedy previous 
to Sheridan. In this play occurs the famous line, "Music hath 
charms to soothe the savage breast." 

106. Foote's. Samuel Foote (1720-1777) wrote farces and 
comedies and himself appeared in them. He was the favorite comic 
actor of the day. 



NOTES 265 

106. Joseph Baretti. An Italian of fine culture, who came to 
London about 1753 and died there about 1789. He was employed 
as language master and as author, and was intimate with Dr. John- 
son. In a street brawl in which he became engaged, he killed a man. 
Dr. Johnson and many others testified in court to his good char- 
acter, and he was acquitted. 

107. Dominicetti. A quack, who in 1765 established medicated 
baths in Cheney Walk, Chelsea. (Croker.) 

107. David Hume (1711-1776). A Scotch historian and philoso- 
pher, who was opposed to the orthodox religious views of his age. 
His History of Great Britain was read with as much avidity as a 
novel, says Gosse, owing to the simplicity and elegance of his style, 
"which proceeds limpid, manly, and serene, without a trace of 
effort." But Hume's predilections for Tory ideas led him to do 
willful injustice to the opponents of arbitrary power, and his pages, 
in addition, "swarm with inaccuracies." Aside from his historical 
works, Hume is famous for his Philosophical Essays Concerning 
Human Understanding and An Enquiry Concerning Morals, which 
gained him a European reputation. Hume was looked on with 
horror by the orthodox as a dangerous infidel; but in truth he was, 
it is believed, exactly what he merrily described himself as being — 
"a sober, discreet, virtuous, regular, quiet, good-natured man of a 
bad reputation." Boswell once said to him: " How much better are 
you than your books!" 

109. Ranelagh. A public hall and garden, in Chelsea, London, 
famous as a gay resort of fashion, from 1742 to the eighteenth 
century. In Smollett's Humphrey Clinker, it is described as follows: 

" What are the amusements of Ranelagh? One half of the company 
are following one another in an eternal circle; like so many blind 
asses in an olive-mill, where they can neither discourse, distinguish, 
nor be distinguished;- while the other half are drinking hot water, 
under the denomination of tea, till nine or ten o'clock at night, to 
keep them awake for the rest of the evening. As for the orchestra, 
the vocal music especially, it is well for the performers that they 
cannot be heard distinctly." 

111. Fielding. Henry Fielding (1707-1754), although he wrote 
innumerable plays and several novels, is chiefly remembered by his 
Tom Jones. He was called by Byron "the prose Homer of human 
nature." Johnson constantly preferred his rival Richardson to 
Fielding, and disparaged the latter (except his novel Amelia) on 
many occasions. Gosse says of Fielding: "He has his eye always 
on conduct; he is keen to observe not what a man pretends or pro- 
tests, but what he does, and this he records for us, sometimes with 
scant respect for our susceptibilities. But it has been a magnifi- 
cent advantage for English fiction to have near the head of it a 
writer so vigorous, so virile, so devoid of every species of affectation 
and hypocrisy. In all the best of our later novelists there has been 
visible a strain of sincere manliness which comes down to them in 



266 NOTES 

direct descent from Fielding, and which it would be a thousand 
pities for English fiction to relinquish." Coleridge, in his Table 
Talk, compared Fielding with Johnson's favorite, Richardson, as 
follows: "How charming, how wholesome Fielding is! To take him 
up after Richardson is like emerging from a sick-room, heated by 
stoves, into an open lawn, on a breezy day in May." 

113. General Oglethorpe. James Edward Oglethorpe (1696-1785) 
was a British general of fine character, who planted the colony of 
Georgia and named it after George II. This colony was at first a 
place of settlement for criminals and refugees. 

113. Belgrade. Belgrade was taken by Prince Eugene in 1717, 
after he had defeated the Turks at Wisnetza. 

114. " Perfect through suffering." Hebrews, ii. 10. 

114. Books were treated by Johnson. Beauclerk wrote to Lord 
Charlemont in 1773: "If you do not come over here, I will bring all 
the Club over to Ireland to live with you, and that will drive you 
here in your own defence. Johnson shall spoil your books, Gold- 
smith pull your flowers, and Boswell talk to you: stay then if you 
can." (Hill, ii, 192.) 

116. Dr. Goldsmith has a new comedy in rehearsal. She Stoops 
to Conquer. 

117. Action. Gesticulation. 

117. Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778) was a French writer 
and philosopher who pointed out the inequalities men suffered in 
modern civilization, and advocated "a return to nature." Rous- 
seau's views undoubtedly helped bring on the French Revolution. 
Boswell visited him while touring the Continent, and imbibed some 
of his views. Hazlitt called Rousseau "the father of sentiment." 

120. Lucius Florus or Eutropius. Floras wrote an abridgment 
of Roman history. He lived in the second century of our era. 
Flavius Eutropius was a popular Latin historian of the fourth century. 

121. That I was chosen. On the Hebrides tour, Johnson told 
Boswell several of the members wished to keep him out. "Burke 
told me," he said, "he doubted if you were fit for it; but now you 
are in, none of them are sorry. Burke says, that you have so much 
good humor naturally, it is scarce a virtue." Boswell. "They 
were afraid of you, Sir, as it was you who proposed me." Johnson. 
"Sir, they knew that if they refused you, they'd probably never 
have got in another. I'd have kept them all out. Beauclerk was 
very earnest for you." Boswell. "Beauclerk has a keenness of 
mind which is very uncommon." 

124. James Beattie (1735-1803). A Scotch poet and philosopher, 
author of a romantic poem, The Minstrel. 

125. He was respectfully entertained. Johnson wrote to Mrs. 
Thrale, Nov. 3, 1773: "He has better faculties than I imagined, 
more justness of discernment and more fecundity of images. It is 
very convenient to travel with him; for there is no house where he 
is not received with kindness and respect.'' 



NOTES 267 

126. Sir A.'s letter. Sir Alexander Gordon, one of the professors 
at Aberdeen. 

126. Quicken Dr. Webster. The Rev. Dr. Alexander Webster, 
an Edinburgh minister, had promised Johnson information concern- 
ing the highlands and islands of Scotland. 

127. Macpherson is very furious. See earlier note on Mac- 
pherson, page 261. Johnson in his book had spoken with great 
severity regarding Macpherson and his claims that Ossian was 
authentic. 

127. Lord Hailes, Sir David Dalrymple, Lord Hailes (1726- 
1792), was a Scotch lawyer and antiquary. 

127. Strong liquor. "It should be recollected," notes Boswell, 
"that this fanciful description of his friend was given by Johnson 
soon after he himself had become a water-drinker." 

129. Since your Homer. Macpherson had recently published an 
unimpressive translation of Homer. 

131. A race of convicts. It had long been the custom to deport 
convicts for settlement in America. Later, the same practice was 
followed with regard to Australia. 

133. His mode of speaking was very impressive. My noble friend 
Lord Pembroke said once to me at Wilton, with a happy pleasantry 
and some truth, that "Dr. Johnson's sayings would not appear so 
extraordinary, were it not for his bow-wow-way." The sayings them- 
selves are generally of sterling merit; but, doubtless, his manner was 
an addition to their effect; and therefore should be attended to as 
much as may be. It is necessary, however, to guard those who are 
not acquainted with him, against overcharged imitations or cari- 
catures of his manner, which are frequently attempted, and many 
of which are second-hand copies from the late Mr. Henderson the 
actor, who, though a good mimic of some persons, did not represent 
Johnson correctly. — Boswell. 

136. Nicolaida. A learned Greek. 

137. The decision relating to Sir Allan. A lawsuit in which 
Johnson had interested himself. 

139. Madame de Boufflers. A fashionable Frenchwoman, whose 
salon in Paris attracted many men of note, especially English writers, 
of whom she was very fond. She visited England in 1763. 

140. Hermippus redivivus. Hermippus was the name of an 
Athenian satiric poet of the fifth century b.c. ; also of a Greek philoso- 
pher of the third century b.c. Hermippus redivivus is the title of a 
book by Dr. John Campbell, said by Johnson to be "a curious history 
of the extravagances of the human mind." 

143, The Beaux' Stratagem. A celebrated play by George Far- 
quhar. The title of Boniface, landlord of-the inn in this drama, whose 
pet expression, "as the saying is," is lugged into almost every sen- 
tence, has since become a stock name for an inn-keeper. 

143. "Oats, the food of horses." See Johnson's definition, 
page 260. Johnson acknowledged to Boswell, while on the Hebrides 



268 NOTES 

tour, that as a boy he had been very fond of eating raw oats. Lord 
Elibank made a happy retort on Dr. Johnson's definition of oats as 
food for men in Scotland, for horses in England: "Yes," said he, 
"and where else will you see such horses and such menV 

144. Jack Ellis. This Mr. Ellis was, I believe, the last of that 
profession called Scriveners, which is one of the London companies, 
but of which the business is no longer carried on separately, but is 
transacted by attorneys and others. He was a man of literature and 
talents. He was the author of a Hudibrastic version of Maphseus's 
Canto, in addition to the Mneid; of some poems in Dodsley's col- 
lection; and various other small pieces; but, being a very modest 
man, never put his name to anything. He showed me a translation 
which he had made of Ovid's Epistles, very prettily done. There 
is a good engraved portrait of him by Pether, from a picture by Fry, 
which hangs in the hail of the Scriveners' Company. I visited him 
October 4, 1790, in his ninety-third year, and found his judgment 
distinct and clear, and his memory, though faded so as to fail him 
occasionally, yet, as he assured me, and I indeed perceived, able to 
serve him very well, after a little recollection. It was agreeable 
to observe, that he was free from the discontent and fretfulness 
which too often molest old age. He in the summer of that year 
walked to Rotherhithe, where he dined, and walked home in the 
evening. He died on the 31st of December, 1791. — Boswell. 

144. The most widely different. Hill quotes Madame D'Arblay's 
remark: "Dr. Johnson almost always prefers the company of an 
intelligent man of the world to that of a scholar." 

145. The Lusiad. The great epic of discovery and exploration 
by the Portuguese poet Luis de Camoens (1524-1580), of which 
Vasca da Gama is the hero. It describes his journey to India in 
1497 and his rounding of the Cape of Good Hope. The poem is 
sometimes called The Epic of Commerce. 

146. Copy. The printer's term for manuscript. 

147. John Wilkes, Esq. See earlier note, page 260. Johnson, 
according to Hill, called Wilkes "a retailer of sedition and obscenity" 
in his The False Alarm, and in The North Briton Wilkes, quoting 
Johnson's definition of a pensioner, called him "a slave of state, 
hired by a stipend to obey his master." 

147. Sir John Pringle. An English army and court surgeon 
(1707-1782), very friendly with Boswell and his father and very 
obnoxious to Johnson. 

148. Jack Ketch. A proverbial expression for the hangman. 
150. Indifferent in his choice. Cf. "Indifferent in his choice to 

sleep or die." — Addison's Cato, v, 1. (Hill, iii, 68.) 

150. Gretna-Green. A village in Scotland near the English 
border, formerly the scene of many runaway marriages. 

151. Foote. Foote told me, that Johnson said of him, "For loud, 
obstreperous, broad-faced mirth, I know not his equal." — Boswell. 
See note on page 264. 



NOTES 269 

152. He will play Scrub all his life. A character in Farquhar's 
Beaux' Stratagem. He says in Act iii: "Of a Monday I drive the 
coach, of a Tuesday I drive the plough, on Wednesday I follow the 
hounds, a Thursday I dun the tenants, on Friday I go to market, 
on Saturday I draw warrants, and a Sunday I draw beer." (Hill, 
iii, 80.) 

153. Pindar (522-433 b.c). One of the great lyric poets of 
Greece; chiefly noted for his odes celebrating victors in athletic 
contests. He was called by the ancient Latin critic Quintilian "by 
far the chief of all the lyrists." He is very hard to read in the 
original Greek, and appears very unfavorably in translation. Mur- 
ray (A History of Ancient Greek Literature) says: "He was a poet 
and nothing else. He thought in music; he loved to live among 
great and beautiful images — Heracles, Achilles, Perseus, Iason, 
the daughters of Cadmus. When any part of his beloved saga re- 
pelled his moral sensitiveness, he glided away from it, careful not 
to express skepticism, careful also not to speak evil of a god. He 
loved poetry and music, especially his own. As a matter of fact, 
there was no poetry in the world like his, and when other people 
sang they jarred on him, he confesses, 'like crows.'" 

153. Elkanah Settle (1648-1724). Settle, a fluent dramatist, was 
a rival of Dryden, who ridicules him as Doeg in Absalom and Achi- 
tophel. Gosse says of him: "He is the most amusing specimen of 
the poetaster, pure and simple, that English literature supplies us 
with." At the end of his life Settle wagged a serpent-tail in a Smith- 
field puppet-show, as a monster in a green leather suit of his own 
invention. He died in abject poverty. 

155. Mr. Home's Douglas. John Home, a Scotch clergyman 
(1722-1808), made a sensation in London with his play Douglas. 
Johnson once defied Thomas Sheridan to show ten good lines in 
Douglas. Nevertheless, it held the stage for a number of years. 
In this play occurs the famous passage — still used as a "recitation* - 
— that begins : 

"My name is Norval; on the Grampian hills 
My father feeds his flocks." 

158. Less attention to profit. Was Johnson, then, quite sincere 
when he remarked that no one but a blockhead ever wrote except 
for money? 

160. Watts. Dr. Isaac Watts (1674-1748), an English divine 
who wrote many famous hymns. Dr. Johnson wrote of him: "His 
lines are commonly smooth and easy, and his thoughts always 
religiously pure; but who is there that, to so much piety and in- 
nocence, does not wish for a greater measure of sprightliness and 
vigor!" It was said of Watts that he was "a man who never wrote 
but for a good purpose.". 



270 NOTES 

161. Taylor. "Taylor," said Johnson to Mrs. Thrale in 1773, 
"is better acquainted with my heart than any man or woman now 
alive." 

161. A gentleman of eminence. Probably Dr. Thomas Warton. 

162. Garrick. Hill (iii, 185) quotes from Hannah More's Memoirs 
a query she once put to Garrick. She asked him ' ' why Johnson was 
so often harsh and unkind in his speeches both of him and to him. 
'Why,' he replied, 'it is very natural; is it not to be expected he 
should be angry that I, who have so much less merit than he, should 
have had so much greater success?"' 

167. John Wesley (1703-1791). An English divine, one of the 
founders of Methodism. Southey says of him, "His manners were 
almost irresistibly winning, and his cheerfulness was like perpetual 
sunshine." (Cf. Hill, iii, 261.) 

167. Memoirs de Fontenelle. Bernard de Bovier de Fontenelle 
(1657-1757) was the nephew of the great French dramatist Corneille, 
and himself an author. 

167. Allan Ramsay. An eminent painter, son of the Scotch 
poet and bookseller who wrote The Gentle Shepherd. He died in 
1784, in the seventy-third year of his life. 

167. Young. Dr. Edward Young (1683-1765) was an English 
clergyman, whose chief work, The Night Thoughts, is highly melan- 
cholic. Gosse says that "it was in the sonorous blank verse of this 
adroit poem that the vague aesthetic melancholy of the age found 
its most striking exposition." That Young "was the victim of 
affectation seems proved by the story that he wrote at night by the 
glimmer of a candle stuck in a human skull." According to John- 
son, in his Night Thoughts Young exhibited "a very wide display of 
original poetry, variegated with deep reflections and striking allu- 
sions, — a wilderness of thought, in which the fertility of fancy 
scatters flowers of every hue and every odor." In this poem occur 
the famous lines, "All men think all men mortal but themselves," 
and "Procrastination is the thief of time." 

168. Fox. Charles James Fox (1749-1806), an English states- 
man and orator, who opposed George Ill's American policy. William 
Hunt says of him: "No man ever has enjoyed greater popularity 
than Fox. His disposition was amiable and generous, his good 
nature inexhaustible, his heart full of warm and humane feelings." 
Under Burke's influence he was gradually interested in the cause of 
reform and progress. 

168. Catched. This form for "caught" was still in good use in 
Johnson's day. 

169. The Stephani. The brothers Estienne (Latin, Stephanus) 
were printers and scholars of the Renaissance. 

170. Chaucer and Gower. Geoffrey Chaucer (1340?-1400) is 
called "the father of English poetry." His friend John Gower 
(1330-1408) helped to establish English as a literary tongue. The 
former's Canterbury Pilgrimage is a vivid picture of the men and 



NOTES 271 

manners, the thoughts and opinions of the fourteenth century, beside 
being a collection of very entertainingly told stories. During the 
age of Johnson, Chaucer was somewhat neglected. 

170. Dr. Burney. Charles Burney (1726-1814) was an English 
composer and writer. His best known work is The History of Music. 
Dr. Johnson was very fond of him. For his daughter, Fanny Burney, 
see page 274. 

170. Miss Hannah More. An English author (1745-1833), who 
wrote chiefly semi-religious stories. Thomas Babington Macaulay 
frequently visited her as a boy and young man, and no doubt heard 
at first hand from her many stories regarding Johnson's eccentricities 
and regarding Boswell. Her best work is "the very diverting 
though didactic novel, Coelebs in Search of a Wife," says Gosse. 

170, Potter's Mschylus. ^Eschylus (525-456 B.C.), the great 
Greek tragic poet, was translated in 1777 by Robert Potter (1721- 
1804), a clergyman. 

171. Numerous prose. Rhythmical prose. 

171. Sir William Temple (1628-1699). An English diplomat and 
essayist, of whom Swift said that there died with him "all that was 
good and amiable among men." His prose style is almost modern 
in tone, and has served as a model for many later writers. He is 
the author of the famous sentence: " When all is done, human life is, 
at the greatest and the best, but like a froward child, that must be 
played with and humored a little to keep it quiet till it falls asleep, 
and then the care is over." Macaulay wrote an interesting essay 
on Temple. 

171. Clarendon. Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon (1608-1674) 
was a royalist statesman and writer, author of a History of the Great 
Rebellion. A. W. Ward says of him: "Clarendon's style, like every 
style that attracts or interests, is the man. . . . He sometimes comes 
near true wit, and occasionally has a picturesque turn; but he very 
rarely rises into true eloquence." The History shows on every 
page, critics note, that Clarendon was not primarily a student, but 
rather a soldier, an administrator, and a politician. Clarendon's 
character-sketches, many of them of men he knew personally, are 
especially noteworthy. 

171. Martial. A Latin epigrammatic poet of whom Johnson was 
very fond. He is the model of the modern epigrammatist, and has 
been endlessly imitated. 

172. Rich. The manager of the Co vent Garden Theatre. 

173. Lord Mansfield. A great English judge of this period, who 
presided over many political trials with marked fairness. Johnson 
admired him greatly. 

174. Miss Seward, the poetess of Lichfield. Anna Seward (1747- 
1809), called "The Swan of Lichfield," was a famous imitator of 
the style of Johnson. 

180. Lord Orrery. Roger Boyle, Earl of Orrery (1621-1679), an 
Irish nobleman of great political and literary talents, author of a 



272 NOTES 

number of plays. He introduced rhymed tragedies on the English 
stage. 

180. George Psalmanazar (1679?-1763). A famous imposter, 
who pretended to be an inhabitant of the island of Formosa (near 
Japan), and published a fictitious description of the place. Later 
he became a clergyman and confessed his deception. His later life 
was regular and sincere. Johnson reverenced Psalmanazar highly, 
and said he had never ventured to contradict the latter. 

180. A gentleman. Probably Langton. 

182. Blackmore, Watts, Pomfret, and Yalden. Sir Richard 
Blackmore (1650?-1729), author of Creation, King Arthur, and other 
massive works, beside many medical treatises, was the favorite butt 
of the wits and critics of his day. Johnson wrote of Blackmore that 
he formed magnificent designs in his poems, but was careless of par- 
ticular and subordinate elegances. Cowper said of him that he had 
committed " more absurdities in verse than any [other] writer of 
our country." To Blackmore are attributed the exquisitely absurd 
lines : u 

A painted vest Prince Voltiger had on, 
Which from a naked Pict his grandsire won. 

For Watts, see page 269. Of The Choice of John Pomfret (1667- 
1703) Johnson said that "perhaps no composition in our language 
has been more often perused." It is now, however, quite extinct. 
Mrs. Browning called Pomfret "the concentrate essence of namby- 
pambyism." The Hymn to Darkness of Thomas Yalden (1671-1736) 
is accounted his best performance. 

185. Ludovico Ariosto (1474-1533). An Italian poet, who 
wrote Orlando Furioso, an epic tale of the time of Charlemagne. 
Shelley said of him that he was only sometimes a poet. Garnett 
(A History of Italian Literature) characterizes him as "always fanci- 
ful, always musical, always elevated, though not always to a great 
altitude, above the level of the choicest prose." 

185. Spenser's Fairy Queen. Edmund Spenser (1552-1599) was 
the first of the great poets of the Elizabethan Age. He was called 
by Milton "our sage and serious poet Spenser," and by Wordsworth 
"Brother, Englishman, and Friend." His sonnets, odes, tales, and 
above all, his great work The Faerie Queene (as it is usually spelled) 
all teach "duty and high endeavor;" they are filled with lofty en- 
thusiasm for virtue and idealism. The Faerie Queene, a poem of 
wonderful beauty and sweet music, has greatly influenced later 
poets. It is an allegory of many episodes. 

185. Diogenes Laertius. A Greek historian, of about 200 a.d., 
who wrote biographies of the Greek philosophers. 

186. An Englishman. Reynolds said, however, that "the preju- 
dices he had to countries did not extend to individuals." (Cf. Hill, 
iv, 17.) 



NOTES 273 

187. Dr. Berkeley's ingenious philosophy. George Berkeley 
(1685-1753) believed that what we call matter or substance is only 
an idea of the mind. His philosophy is a variety of idealism. Pope 
declared of Berkeley that "he was possessed of every virtue under 
heaven." 

188. Cowley. The verse of Abraham Cowley (1618-1667) is 
marred by its complexity and has long been neglected. His prose 
essays are pleasantly and simply written. Johnson characterized 
him as follows: "In the general review of Cowley's poetry it will be 
found that he wrote with abundant fertility, but negligent or un- 
skillful selection; with much thought, but with little imagery; that 
he is never pathetic, and never sublime, but always either ingenious 
or learned, either acute or profound." Of his essays, however, he 
wrote: "His style has a smooth and placid equability." Charles II 
exclaimed at his death, " Mr. Cowley has not left behind him a better 
man in England!" He lies beside Chaucer and Spenser in West- 
minster Abbey. 

189. Edmund Waller (1606-1687). An English poet, who made 
English verse smooth and rather mechanical after the era of the 
Elizabethans, and is regarded as the chief predecessor of Dryden 
and Pope. His chief poems are those inscribed to Sacharissa, 
especially On a Girdle. The general character of his poetry," said 
Johnson, "is elegance and gaiety." Waller played a considerable 
role in the political life of his time. His poems are for the most part 
forgotten. 

191. Lyttelton. George, Lord Lyttelton (1709-1773), an English 
statesman and poet, wrote Dialogues of the Dead. Johnson ex- 
pressed very little admiration for Lyttelton' s work in his Life of 
him. He said of his poems: "They leave nothing to be despised, 
and little to be admired. . . . His blank verse in Blenheim has 
neither much force nor much elegance. His little performances, 
whether songs or epigrams, are sometimes sprightly and sometimes, 
insipid." 

191. Mrs. Montagu. Elizabeth Montagu (1720-1800) was a 
woman of considerable intellectual ability; she was the first to be 
called a "blue-stocking." She had a wide circle of famous friends. 
She wrote an essay on The Genius of Shakespeare, in answer to the 
unfavorable criticisms of Voltaire. 

197. Captain Langton. Being at this time on duty at Rochester, 
he is addressed by a military title. 

198. Little Jenny. Jenny Langton, Johnson's god-daughter. 
200. The library. According to Dr. Burney (quoted Hill, iv, 

181), "The family lived in the library, which used to be the parlor. 
There they breakfasted. Over the bookcases were hung Sir Joshua's 
portraits of Mr. Thrale's friends — Baretti, Burke, Burney, Cham- 
bers, Garrick, Goldsmith, Johnson, Murphy, Reynolds, Lord Sandys, 
Lord Westcote, and in the same picture Mrs. Thrale and her eldest 
daughter." Thrale's portrait, Dr. Hill adds, was also there. 



274 NOTES 

201. Sold Charles the First. By an arrangement with the Eng- 
lish, Charles I was delivered into the hands of the soldiers of the 
Commonwealth after he had fled to Scotland. Later he was tried 
and executed. 

204. Cant. One of the five meanings Johnson gives to cant is: 
"A whining pretension to goodness in formal and affected terms." 
(Cf. Hill, iv, 255.) 

206. Edmund Allen. His landlord and next-door neighbor in 
Bolt-court. 

206. Sarcocele. A form of cancer. 

207. Console and amuse his mind. Hill quotes from the Piozzi 
Letters: "Dec. 31. I have much need of entertainment; spiritless, 
infirm, sleepless, and solitary, looking back with sorrow and forward 
with terror." 

212. Handel. The fame of the great German musician was 
honored at the twenty-fifth anniversary of his death by an elaborate 
public performance. 

213. Squire Richard in The Journey to London, Colley Cibber's re- 
vision of a play by Vanbrugh, a Restoration playwright. 

216. The comedy of The Rehearsal, by the Duke of Buckingham. 

217. The Lord Chancellor. Edward Thurlow, a famous lawyer. 
221. Signer Piozzi. Described by the poet, Samuel Rogers, as 

"a very handsome, gentlemanly, and amiable person." (Cf. Hill, 
iv, 391.) 

223. Mgri Ephemeris. Diary of a sick man. 

225. Miss Burney. Frances Burney, later Madame D'Arblay 
(1752-1840), was the daughter of Johnson's friend Dr. Burney. 
Her records of Johnson's conversation are of the greatest value. 
She wrote several novels, one of which, Evelina (1778), is the best 
novel in English written by a woman previous to Jane Austen's 
and George Eliot's works of fiction. See Macaulay's interesting 
essay on her Diary. 

225. Die like men. Psalms, lxxxii. 7. 

226. William Windham (1750-1810). A Whig statesman and 
orator. Macaulay named him "the finest gentleman of the age." 

Note. — References in these annotations to critical opinions of Johnson on 
various writers are usually from his Lives of the Poets. References to Gosse 
are from Garnett & Gosse's English Literature, volume iii; to Hill, from his 
edition of Boswell's Life of Johnson. 



INDEX 



Adams, Dr. William, 10, 13, 30, 46, 

214 
Addison, Joseph, 38, 135 f., 247, 258, 

268 
.Eschylus, 170, 271 
America and Americans, 115 f., 127, 

128, 131 f., 180, 212 f., 267, 270 
Anacreon, 9, 255 
Anne, Queen, 9, 255 
Anthology, Greek, 12, 255 
Ariosto, 185, 272 
Ashbourne, 48, 141, 161 f. 

Barber, Francis, 39, 58 f., 95, 118, 
150, 166, 212, 213, 214, 226, 227 

Baretti, Joseph, 44, 105, 265, 273 

Beattie, James, 124, 266 

Beauclerk, Topham, xix, 16, 41 f., 
88, 119, 127, 129, 133, 136, 139, 
185, 187, 248, 259, 266 

Bentley, Richard, 13, 255 

Berkeley, George, 187, 273 

Birmingham, 15 f., 141, 143, 157, 256 

Blackmore, Sir Richard, 182, 272 

Blair, Hugh, 69, 157, 261 

Boswell, Alexander, Lord Auchin- 
leck, vii f., 156, 157, 183 

Boswell, James, life of, viif.; per- 
sonal appearance of, x, xii; makes 
the acquaintance of Johnson, viii, 
63 f . ; his tour to the Hebrides with 
Johnson, ix f., 3, 8, 79, 123 f.; at 
Ashbourne with Johnson, 48, 141, 
161 f.; letters from Johnson, 123-4, 
124, 125, 126, 127, 136-7, 137-8, 
157-8, 183-4, 208; Johnson's 
treatment of Boswell, 67, 72, 83, 
105-6, 107, 108-9, 114, 118, 121, 
155, 160 f., 165, 175, 180 f., 183. 
201, 205, 219, 266; attachment for 
Johnson, 164, 181, 205, 209; 
makes acquaintance of Thrales, 
104; admitted to the Literary 
Club, 119 f., 266; methods of 
composing Life of Johnson, ix, x f., 
xii f., 3 f., 83, 92, 111, 118, 236, 247; 
dedication to Reynolds, 3 f., critical 
opinions on Boswell and the Life 
of Johnson, xi, xii f.; editions of, 



xxiv; Boswelliana, xxv; questions 
and exercises on the Life of John- 
son, xxviii f. See also under 
Johnson 

Boswell, Mrs., 124, 126, 127, 136, 137, 
138, 156, 157, 160 f., 183, 199, 205 

Boswell, Robert, xii 

Boufflers, Comtesse de, 109, 139, 267 

Burke, Edmund, xi, xvii, xix, xxii, 80, 
88, 96, 121, 141 f., 154, 177, 186, 
193, 212, 226 f., 228, 248, 262, 263, 
264, 266, 270, 273 

Burke, Richard, xxi, xxiii, 89 

Burke, William, xxi, xxiii 

Burney, Dr. Charles, 70, 170, 195, 
222, 256, 271, 273 

Burney, Frances (later Madame 
D'Arblay), 225, 250, 252, 253, 255, 
260, 263, 268, 271, 274 

Burton, Robert, 11, 109 f., 255 

Bute, Lord, 60 f., 260 

Carlyle, Thomas, vii, xiv 

Carte, Thomas, 9, 255 

"Cham, great, of literature," 58, 260 

Chamier, Andrew, 88, 263, 270 f. 

Chaucer, Geoffrey, 170, 270 f., 273 

Chemistry, Johnson's fondness for, 

78, 183 
Chesterfield, Lord, 29 f., 43 f., 117, 

151, 156, 241, 259 
Cibber, Colley, 43, 73, 145, 153, 

162 f., 211, 213, 259, 261, 274 
Clarendon, Lord, 171, 271 
Clarke, Dr. Samuel, 5, 13, 71, 255, 261 
Club, The Literary, ix, xix f., xxi f., 

88 f., 96, 217, 228, 248-9, 266 
Congreve, William, 106, 264 
Cowley, Abraham, 188, 273 
Croker, John Wilson, xiii 

D'Arblay, Madame. See Burney, 

Frances 
Davies, Thomas, xii, 66 f., 77, 105, 

106, 121, 130, 246 
Debates in Parliament, Johnson's, 21, 

241 
Definitions by Johnson, 48 f., Ill, 

164, 260, 267-8 



275 



276 



INDEX 



Desmoulins, Mrs., 166, 207, 227 
Dictionary, Johnson's, 17, 28 f., 36, 

37,43, 46 f., 84, 111, 116, 184, 216, 

217, 231 
Dilly, Edward and Charles, 44, 147 f., 

158 f., 174 f. 
Dodsley, Fames and Robert, 28, 35, 

258, 268 
Dominicetti, 107, 265 
Dryden, John, 96, 106, 153, 168, 188, 

189, 260, 263, 264, 269, 273 

Edwards, Oliver, 175, 195 
Ellis, Jack, 144, 268 
Elwin, Whitwell, xvii-xviii 
Euripides, 12, 215, 255 
Eutropius, 120, 266 

Farquhar, George, 143, 152, 267, 269 
Fielding, Henry, 111 f., 147, 209, 

265-6 
Florus, Lucius, 120, 266 
Fontenelle, Bernard de, 167, 270 
Foote, Samuel, 81, 106, 107-8, 118, 

130, 151 f., 162, 252, 264, 268 
Fox, Charles Edward, 168, 270 
Frank, Black. See under Barber, 

Francis 

Garrick, David, xx, xxi f., 17, 18, 19, 
27, 34, 43, 67, 71, 73, 88, 89, 100, 
105, 114, 121, 130, 133, 143, 151 f., 
162, 163, 170 f., 175, 184, 195, 
240-1, 241, 246, 248, 254, 258, 270, 
273 
Gentleman's Magazine, 20, 243 
George III, 60, 98 f., 260, 270 
Ghosts, 112, 241 f 

Gibbon, Edward, xx, 89, 167, 193, 225 
Goldsmith, Oliver, xii, xiii, xvii, xix- 
, xx, xxi f., 74 f., 77, 88, 96, 97, 103, 
1 105, 111, 113, 116, 118 f., 121 f., 
; 168 f., 187, 211, 245, 247-8, 248, 

262, 266, 273 
Gosse, Edmund, xvi, xvii, 261, 262, 

265, 269, 270, 274 
Gower, John, 170, 270 
Graham, Henry Gray, xii 
Gray, Thomas, x, xvii, 73 f., 190, 246, 

258, 262 
Grotius, Hugo, 71, 261 

Haiies, Lord, 127, 136 f., 241, 247, 

267 
Handel, 212, 274 



Hard words, did Johnson use? 37 f., 

87, 118 f., 184, 189, 216, 223 f., 250, 

263 
Hawkins, Sir John, 32, 39, 56, 76, 88, 

97, 142, 207, 221, 226, 228, 255, 

257, 258, 260 
Hebrides, ix f., 3, 8, 79, 123 f 
Hermippus redivivus, 140, 267 
Hervey, Henry, 19 
Hesiod, 9, 255 
Hill, Aaron, 101, 264 
Hill, George Bierbeck, xxiv f., 255, 

256, 258, 263, 264, 266, 268, 269, 

270, 272, 273, 274 
Home, John, 155, 269 
Homer, 12, 69, 171, 259, 267 
Hoole, John, 145, 202, 226 
Horace, 12, 34, 116, 167, 255, 257 
Hume, David, 107, 108, 119, 265 
Hutton, Lawrence, xvii 

Idler, Johnson's, 38, 52 
Irene, Johnson's, 34 f., 185 

Johnson, Elizabeth (Johnson's wife), 
16, 17, 18, 36 f., 39 f., 256 

Johnson, Michael, 7, 10, 222 

Johnson, Nathaniel, 7 

Johnson, Dr. Samuel. Events op 
His Life: birth, 7; parentage, 7; 
afflicted with scrofula, 8; touched 
by Queen Anne, 9; his studies at 
home, 9; his entrance at Oxford, 
10; his morbid melancholy, 11 f.; 
his life at Oxford, 12 f.; compelled 
to leave college, 15; at Birming- 
ham, 16; his marriage to Mrs. Por- 
ter, 16; regard for his wife, 17, 178, 
251; opens an academy, 17; sets 
out for London, 19, 240-1; em- 
ployed by the Gentleman's Maga- 
zine, 20 f . ; publication of London, 
21 f.; his Life of Savage, 25 f., 35, 
40; his indigence, 26, 257; miscel- 
laneous writings, 27 f . ; issues a 
Prospectus of a Dictionary, 28 f . ; 
dedicates Prospectus to Lord Ches- 
terfield, 29 f.; at work and play, 
30 f . ; publication of Vanity of 
Human Wishes, 33 f.; production 
of Irene, 34 f . ; publication of The 
Rambler, 35 f.; death of Johnson's 
wife, 39 f . ; beginning of his friend- 
ship with Reynolds, 40 f . ; with 
Langton, 41; with Beauclerk, 41 f.; 



INDEX 



277 



controversy with Lord Chester- 
field, 43 f. ; publication of the Dic- 
tionary, 46 f.; miscellaneous writ- 
ings, 49 f. ; proposals for an edition 
of Shakespeare, 51; publication of 
The Idler, 52; death of Johnson's 
mother, 53; publication of Rasse- 
lo,s, 56; excursion to Oxford, 57 f.; 
the "great Cham of literature," 58; 
a pension granted to Johnson, 60 f.. 
246-7; visits from Boswell, 69 f.; 
Johnson and Goldsmith, 75 f . ; an 
excursion to Greenwich, 81 f.; to 
Harwich, 84 f . ; founding of the 
Literary Club, 88 f . ; hypochon- 
dria, 90; made Doctor of Laws, 
92, 246, 263; introduced to the 
Thrales, 92 f.; publication of edi- 
tion of Shakespeare, 95; the in- 
terview with George III, 98 f . ; 
Maxwell's recollections, 109 f ; 
Johnson's American correspond- 
ence, 115 f.; the trip to the Heb- 
rides, 123 f.; the controversy with 
Macpherson, 128 f.; publication of 
Journey to the Western Islands, 
130 f.; trip to France, 138; John- 
son and Boswell on a jaunt, 141 f.; 
the meeting with Wilkes, 147 f.; 
inception of The Lives of the Poets, 
156 f.; the trip to Ashbourne, 16 f.; 
the meeting with Edwards, 175 f.; 
publication of The Lives of the 
Poets, 182 f., 187 f.; Langton's rec- 
ollections, 184 f.; Johnson ill, 193, 
197, 200, 205, 206, 207, 208 f., 222, 
223; death of Thrale, 194 f.; a 
trip to Oxford, 212 f.; last attend- 
ance at the Club, 217; endeavors 
to increase Johnson's pension, 
217 f.; the last meeting of John- 
son and Boswell, 220; Johnson at 
Uttoxeter-market, 222; imitations 
of Johnson's style, 223 f.; last ill- 
ness and death of Johnson, 226 f.; 
burial, 228; summary of character 
and works, 229 f. 
Johnson, Dr. Samuel. In General: 
Johnsoniana, xxiv; fictioD in which 
Johnson is a character, xxv; let- 
ters, 24-5, 45-6, 53, 54, 55, 55-6, 
61-2, 96-7, 115, 116, 123-4, 124, 
125, 126, 127, 129, 136, 136-7, 
137-8, 157-8, 160-1, 183-4, 197-8, 
198-9, 199, 206, 208, 209, 212, 223; 



manner of treating people, 103, 
105-6, 107, 108, 110, 114, 133, 135, 
155, 166 f., 174, 175, 180 f., 211 f., 
214 f., 215, 250, 250-1, 251-2, 253, 
253^, 254, 264; methods of com- 
position, 26, 36, 52, 144, 146, 202, 
256, 258; personal appearance, 70, 
87, 139, 144, 192, 229 f., 256; per- 
sonal peculiarities and habits, 7, 
8, 23-4, 27, 90 f., 107 f., 109, 126, 
129, 132 f., 133, 135, 136, 143, 144, 
148, 151, 164, 166 f., 174, 177, 179, 
180, 182, 187, 193, 202 f., 203, 204, 
206, 211 f., 213^, 214-5, 216, 217, 
222, 225 f., 230 f., 249, 252; wit 
of, 246, 255, 266, 267, 268 
Johnson, Dr. Samuel. Sayings of: 
Actors: See under Players: Ac- 
tress, famous, 253. Advice, giv- 
ing, 236, 249. Affectation, 187. 
Allegorical paintings, 235. Am- 
bition, 235, 237, 239-40, 252. 
America and Americans, 127, 128, 
131, 180. Attempting wit, 80-1, 
252. Attorneys, 110. Authors in 
private life, 68, 236, 247, 247-8. 
Big words, 87, 250. Biography, 
writing, 111, 247, 249. Books, 
most useful, 249. Boys at school, 
80. Cast, 164, 204, 274. Care- 
lessness, 186. Children, 250. 
Cleanliness, 235, 251. Club, Lit- 
erary, 248-9. Comedy, 238. Con- 
tention, spirit of, 250. Conversa- 
tion, 36, 132, 142, 179, 203, 238, 
248. Country gentlemen, 200 f. 
Curiosity, 237. Curious coins, 

203. Dates, 236. Death, 107 f., 
129 f., 211, 227. Delaying din- 
ner, 105. Disappointing ourselves, 
237. Doctors of Law, 263. Drink- 
ing, 114, 145, 178, 193. Dying 
rich, 177. Eating, 85, 163-4. 

English traits, 169, 186, 203, 213. 
Entertaining, Being, 1S6. Excise, 
48, 260. Explorations, 48. Con- 
ferring favors, 237. Feeing ser- 
vants, 85. Fiddle, playing the, 
246-7. French habits, 138, 169, 
186. French literature, 169. 

Friends, making new, 187, 222. 
Gesticulations, 117, 187, 216. 
Ghosts, 112, 241 f. Gratitude, 237. 
Greek and Latin, 81, 84. Greek, 
losing one's, 253. Grub-street, 49, 



278 



INDEX 



202, 260. His own efforts, 235. 
Hopes, 237. Idleness, 84, 185, 237, 
244. Imitation, 237. Insanity, 
255. Intellectual labor, 71, 238. 
Jacobites, 244-5. Judgments upon 
authors, 250. Kings, 100-101. 
Knitting, 213. Ladies, 249. 

Laughers, The, 202, 251. Laugh- 
ing at a man, 181. Learning, 
185-6, 205, 235. Lexicographer, 
49, 260. Liberty, 68. London, 
love of, 82-3, 104, 134, 162, 169, 
201. Lords among wits, 46, 196. 
Madness, 70. Making jokes, 118. 
Making readers suffer, 65. Matri- 
mony, 110. Medicated baths, 107. 
Memory, powers of, 237. Mental 
superiority, 238. Mirth, 251. 

Money, 187, 238. Monsters, tame, 
253. Motwes, 71. Nature, de- 
lights of, 82, 104, 169, 252. Nu- 
merous prose, 171. Oats, 48, 143, 
201, 260, 267-8. Old age, 170, 
201-2, 254. One's, own company, 
238. Our own labors, 236. Par- 
allel ramifications, 47. Parlia- 
ment, Being in, 204. Pastern, 
The, 48, Patriotism, 134. Pa- 
trons, 45. Passion, 48, 61 f., 261. 
Physical ailments, 83. Players, 
prejudice against, 27, 35, 64, 73, 
106, 163, 270. Pleasures, 238, 245, 
248. Politics, 204 f. Poverty, 
237, 238, 238-9. Praise, 238. 
Preaching, 82, 84. Reading, 146, 
147, 238, 244. Reasons for opin- 
ions, 238. Refuting idealism, 187. 
Renegade, 49. Rhyme and blank 
verse, 78, 171. Riding three 
horses, 72. Romantic poetry, 
161 f. Roughness of manner, 
211 f., 214 f. Rudeness, 187. 
Science, 249. Scotland and the 
Scotch, 67, 77, 82, 104, 104-5, 
115, 119, 121, 131, 137, 138, 154, 
157, 201, 246-7, 247, 260, 268. 
Sea-life, 141, 173 f. Second mar- 
riages, 100. Silence, 238. Sitting 
for pictures, 184. Soldiers, 173. 
Sorrow, sentimental, 251. Studi- 
ous lives, 236. Studying, 13. 
Superiority, 68, 245. Taverns, 
142. Thinking indistinctly, 238. 
Time, 238. Tory, 48, 252. Trag- 
edy, 238. Translations, 171. 



Traveling, Rules for, 198 f. Truth, 
78, 185, 252. Uncommon words, 
37, 38. Un-idea'd girls and women, 
43, 253. Wealth, 196. Weather, 
The, 77 f. Whig, 48, 245, 248, 252. 
Wishing books longer, 255-6. Wit, 
238. Women preaching, 84. Writ- 
ers, labors of, 235-6, 236. Writing 
doggedly, 36, 236, 258. Writing 
for money, 144. Young people, 79, 
238. 

Johnson, Sarah (Johnson's mother), 
7, 9, 24, 53 f. 

Johnsoniana, xxiv f. 

Jones, Sir William, xx, 89, 121, 248. 

Jonson, Ben, xxi, xxiii 

Journey to the Western Islands of 
Scotland, Johnson's, 127, 130 f. 

Junius, Francis, 30, 257 

Juvenal, 21, 33, 256 

Karnes, Lord, 68, 261 

Lsertius, Diogenes, 185, 272 
Langton, Bennet, xix, 35, 41 f., 44, 

88, 96, 114, 121, 127, 136, 145, 

167 f., 181, 184 f., 192, 193, 197 f., 

206, 209, 211, 226, 228, 244, 248, 

272, 273 
Latin derivatives in Johnson, 37 
Le Fleming, Sir Michael, 83, 263 
Levett, Robert, 24, 41, 78, 95, 145, 

198, 201, 207 
Lawes, George Henry, xvi 
Lichfield, 7, 130, 141, 143, 196, 222, 

253 
Lives of the Poets, Johnson's, xi, 102, 

156 f., 182 f., 187 f., 216, 256-7, 

257, 264, 269, 270, 272, 273, 274 
London, Johnson's, 17, 21 f., 82, 106, 

238-9 
Lowth, Robert, 100, 264 
Lusiad, The, 145, 268 
Lyttelton, Lord, 43, 100, 119, 191, 

241, 245, 273 

Macaulay, Thomas Babington, vii, 
xiii f., xxxi, 255, 258, 271, 274 

Macpherson, James, 69 f., 127, 128 f., 
131, 261, 267 

Macrobius, 11, 255 

Mallet, David, 74, 262 

Malone, Edward, xx, 74, 89, 177, 
217 256 

Mansfield, Lord, 173, 271 



INDEX 



279 



Martial, 171, 271 

Milton, John, 190, 235, 259, 272 

Montagu, Mrs. Elizabeth, 191, 193, 

245, 253, 273 
More, Hannah, 170, 175, 195, 252, 

270, 271 

Nicknames, 122 
Nugent, Dr., 88, 263 

Oglethorpe, General, 113, 266 
Orrery, Lord, 180, 189, 271-2 
Oxford, 10 f., 41, 57 f., 99, 129, 141, 
157, 212 f. 

Paoli, General Pascal, viii, xii, 217 

Parnell, Thomas, 111, 247 

Parodies, by Johnson, 162, 215; of 

Johnson's style, 223 f. 
Pearson, John, 71, 261 
Pembroke College, 10, 13, 176, 178, 

214, 261 
Pembroke Gate, 14, 177 
Pension, Johnson's, 60 f., 196, 217 f., 

261, 268 
Percy, Dr. Thomas, Bishop of Dro- 

niore, xx, 13, 22, 89, 161 f., 170, 180, 

249, 260 
Petrarch, 9, 255 
Philips, Ambrose, 27, 257 
Pindar, 153, 269 
Piozzi, Airs. See Thrale, Hester 

Lynch 
Pomfret, John, 182, 272 
Pope, Alexander, 22 f., 28, 96, 105 f., 

153, 167, 169, 171, 189, 190, 250, 

256, 257, 259, 264, 273 
Porter, Airs. Elizabeth. See John- 
son, Elizabeth 
Porter, Lucy, 8, 16, 53 f., 222, 256 
Potter, Robert, 170, 271 
Prayers and Meditations, Johnson's, 

17, 39, 90, 114, 183, 196 f., 250, 

240 
Pringle, Sir John, 147, 268 
Prior, Sir James, xii 
Psalmanazar, George, 180, 202, 272 

Rambler, Johnson's, 17, 35 f., 41, 146, 

185, 195, 258 
Ramsay, Allan, The elder, 245, 270 
Ramsay, Allan, The younger, 167 f., 

209, 270 
Ranelagh, 109, 265 
Rasselas, Johnson's, xi, 56 f., 116 



Rehearsal, The, 216, 274 

Reynolds, Sir Joshua, xi, xix, xxii-iii, 
23, 24, 26, 36, 40 f„ 60, 66, 88, 91, 
97, 102, 105, 118, 127, 135, 142, 
145, 148, 167 f., 177, 181, 193, 194, 
195 f., 212, 216, 217 f., 248, 252, 
258-9, 272, 273; Dedication of 
Boswell's Life of Johnson to, 3 f. 

Richardson, Jonathan, the elder, 22, 
256 

Richardson, Jonathan, the younger, 
22, 23, 256 

Richardson, Samuel, 36, 112, 163, 
180, 184, 258, 265-6 

Robertson, William, 119 f., 224 

Rochefoucault, 41, 259 

Rousseau, Jean Jacques, 117, 266 

Savage, Richard, 25 f., 35, 40, 257 
Savage, Life of, Johnson's, 25 f., 35, 40 
Scrub, 152, 169 
Seccombe, Thomas, xvi 
Settle, Elkanah, 153-4, 269 
Seward, Anna, 174, 271 
Shakespeare, 12, 106, 191, 245, 256, 

262, 273 
Shakespeare, Edition of, Johnson's, 

27, 51, 59, 95, 114 
Sheridan, Mrs. Frances, 65 
Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, xx, 89, 

261, 264 
Sheridan, Thomas, 60, 64 f , 68, 81, 

121, 190, 201, 261, 269 
Skinner, Stephen, 30, 257 
Smart, Christopher, 70 f., 249, 261 
Smith, Adam, xx, 13, 78, 89 
Smith, Alexander, xvi 
Smollett, Tobias, 58, 260, 265 
Spenser, Edmund, 185, 272, 273 
Stephani, The, 169, 270 
Stephen, Leslie, xvi 
Style, Johnson's, parodies of, 223 f. 
Swift, Jonathan, 23, 65, 80, 190, 214, 

262 

Temple, Sir William, 171, 271 , 
Thomson, James, 80, 145, 158, 262 
Thrale, Henry, 92 f., 104, 117, 138, 
143, 156, 157, 166, 183, 193, 194 f., 
197, 246, 252, 263, 273 
Thrale, Hester Lynch (later Mrs. 
Piozzi), 76, 93, 104, 117, 136, 138, 
140 f., 157, 163, 200, 201, 221, 223, 
249, 250, 251, 252, 253, 255, 256, 
257, 263, 266, 270, 273, 274 



280 



INDEX 



Thurlow, Lord, 217 f., 274 
Tinker, Chauncey Brewster, xviii 

Vanity of Human Wishes, Johnson's 

33 f., 108, 239-40 
Virgil, 45, 69, 157, 259-60 
Voltaire, 96, 263, 273 

Waller, Edmund, 189, 273 
Warburton, William, 46, 100, 264 
Warton, Joseph, 89, 102, 260, 264 



Warton, Thomas, 89, 185, 260, 264, 

270 
Watts, Isaac, 160, 182, 269, 272 
Wesley, John, 167, 270 
Whitehead, William, 30, 73, 261 
Wilkes, John, 58 f., 69, 147 f., 260, 268 
Williams, Anna, 95, 104, 118, 149, 

154, 166, 207 
Windham, William, 226, 227 

Yalden, Thomas, 182, 272 
Young, Edward, 167, 179, 270 



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